



PRESENTED ]',Y 



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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
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I 



THE 



METAPHYSICS ^^^ 



OF 



/ 

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, 

COLLECTED, ARRANGED, AND ABRIDGIiD, 

FOR THE USE OF COLLEGES AND PRIVATE ISTLDENTS, 



BY 

FRANCIS BOWEN, 

ALFORD PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHIIOSOPHT IN I1ARV>RD COLLEQB. 



CAMBRIDGE: 
SEVER AND FRANCIS, 

18 67. 



1-4^^ 



.^ 






73748 



Entered according to Act of Congress in the ye»r 1861, by 

SEYER, AND FRANCIS, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of MaSvStachusetitg 



SEyE:NTII EDITION. 



PREFACE 



It is unfortunate that Sir William Hamilton did not 
undertake fully to digest his metaphysical opinions into 
system, and to publish them as one orderly and connected 
whole. He had a system, for he was eminently a method- 
ical and self-consistent thinker ; but it was built up piece- 
meal, and so given to the world, at various times, in succes- 
sive articles in the Edinburgh Review ; in copious notes, 
appendices, and other additions to these articles when they 
were republished as a volume of " Discussions," and again, 
when these "Discussions" passed to a second edition; in 
the Notes, and, still more at length, in the Supplementary 
Dissertations, to his ponderous edition of Reid ; and finally, 
in the memoranda prepared at different times and for vari- 
ous purposes, which his English editors gathered up and 
annexed to the posthumous publication of his " Lectures 
on Metaphysics." While neither of these works furnishes 
an outline of his system as a whole, each one of them con- 
tains a statement, more or less complete, of his principal 
doctrines and arguments, so that, taken together, they 
abound in repetitions. Even the '' Lectures," which afford 
the nearest approach to a full and systematic exposition of 
his opinions, besides laboring under the necessary disad- 
vantage of a posthumous publication, never finally revised 
by the author for the press, and probably not even intended 
by him to be printed, were first written by him in great 
haste at the time (1836) of his original appointment to a 
Professorship in the University of Edinburgh, and seem to 
have received but few subsequent alterations or additions, 
though his opinions certainly underwent afterwards con- 
siderable development and modification. 

As any course of instruction in the Philosophy of Mind 

(ui) 



iv PREFACE. 

at the present day must be very Imperfect whicli does 
not comprise a tolerably full view of Hamilton's Meta- 
physics, I have endeavored, in the present volume, to pre- 
pare a text-book which should contain, in his own language, 
the substance of all that he has written upon the subject. 
For this purpose, the '' Lectures on Metaphysics " have been 
taken as the basis of the work ; and I have freely abridged 
them by striking out the repetitions and redundancies in 
which they abound, and omitting also, in great part, the 
load of citations and references that they contain, as these 
are of inferior interest except to a student of the history of 
philosophy, or as marks of the stupendous erudition of the 
author. The space acquired by these abridgments has 
enabled me to interweave into the book, in their appro- 
priate place and connection, all those portions of the '' Dis- 
cussions," and of the Notes and Dissertations supplemen- 
tary to Reid, which seemed necessary either to elucidate 
and confirm the text, or to supplement it with the later 
and more fully expressed opinions of the author. These 
insertions, always distinguished by angular brackets [ ], 
and referred to the source whence they were drawn, are 
very numerous and considerable in amount ; sometimes 
they are several pages long, others do not exceed in length 
a single paragraph, or even a single sentence. The au- 
thor's language has invariably been preserved, and where- 
ever a word or two had to be altered or supplied, to pre- 
serve the connection, the inserted words have been enclosed 
in brackets. The divisions between the Lectures, necessa- 
rily arbitrary, as the limits of a discourse of fixed length 
could not coincide with the natural division of the subject, 
have not been preserved in this edition. A chapter here 
often begins in the middle of a Lecture, and sometimes 
comprises two or more Lectures. A very few notes, criti- 
cal or explanatory in character, are properly distinguished 
as supplied by the American Editor. 

It has been a laborious, but not a disagreeable task, to 
examine and collate three bulky octavos, with a view thus 
to condense their substance into a single volume of moder- 
ate dimensions. I cannot promise that the work has been 
thoroughly, but only that it has been carefully, done. ^ , 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PA6« 

Utility of the Study of Piiii.osopiiY .... 1 



CHAPTER II. 

The Nature and Comprehension of PniLOSoniY . 27 

CHAPTER III. 

The Causes of Philosophy, and the Dispositions 

WITH which it ought TO BE STUDIED .... 40 

CHAPTER lY. . 
The Method of Philosophy 60 

CHAPTER V. 

The Divisions of Philosophy . • . . . .71 

CHAPTER YI. 

Definition of Psychology: Relativity of Human 
Knowledge : Explication of Terms .... 84 

CHAPTER YII 
Explication of Terms continued . ... 99 

(V) 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTEE YIII. 

Distribution of Mental Ph^enomena : Special Con- 
ditions OF Consciousness . . . . . . 120 

CHAPTER IX. 

Consciousness not a Special Faculty . . .135 

CHAPTER X. 

Consciousness not a Special Faculty continued : its 
relation to Perception, Attention, and Reflec- 
tion ..... 148 

CHAPTER XI. 
Consciousness, — its Evidence and Authority . .175 

CHAPTER XII. 

Violations of the Authority of Consciousness in 
Various Theories of Perception . . .193 

CHAPTER XIII. 

General Ph^enomena of Consciousness : Are we al- 
ways consciously active? . . . . . . 215 

CHAPTER XIV. 

General Phenomena of Consciousness: Is the Mind 
ever unconsciously modified? . . . . . 235 

CHAPTER XV. 

General Phenomena of Consciousness : Difficulties 
AND Facilities of Psychological Study: Classifi- 
cation OF the Cognitive Faculties .... 254 



CONTENTS. vii 



CHAPTER XVI. 

The Presentative Faculty: Reid's Historical View 
OF THE Theories of Perception 27S 



CHAPTER XVII. 

The Presentative Faculty: Perception: Was Reid a 
Natural Realist ? 295 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Presentative Faculty: The Distinction of Per- 
ception PROPER FROM SeNSATION PROPER: PRIMARY 

AND Secondary Qualities 313 

CHAPTER XIX. 

The Presentative Faculty: Objections to the Doc- 
trine OF Natural Realism considered: the Rep- 
resentative Hypothesis refuted . . . . 342 

CHAPTER XX. 

The Presentative Faculty: General Questions re- 
lating TO THE Senses: Perceptions by Sight and 
Touch • 863 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Presentative Faculty : Recapitulation : II. Self- 
Consciousness 389 

CHAPTER XXII. 
The Conservative Faculty: Memory Proper . • 409 



viii CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XXIIT. 

The Heproductive Faculty: Laws ot Association: 
Suggestion and Reminiscence . ., • . .421 

CHAPTER XXIV 
The Representative Faculty: Imagination . .44] 

CHAPTER XXV. 

The Elaborative Faculty : Classification : Abstrac- 
tion AND Generalization: Nominalism and Con- 
ceptualism 45G 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Elaborative Faculty : The Primum Cognitum : 
Judgment and Reasoning . . . . . . 480 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

'tiiE Regulative Faculty: The Philosophy of the 
Conditioned . .499 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 
The Regulative Faculty: Law of the Conditioned 

IN ITS application TO THE DOCTRINE OF CaUSALITY e^Sl 



HAMILTON'S METAPHYSICS. 



CHAPTER I. 

UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Some things are valuable, finally, or for themselves, — these 
are ends ; other things are valuable, not on their own account, 
but as conducive towards certain ulterior ends, — these are 
means. The value of ends is absolute, — the value of means 
is relative. Absolute value is properly called a good, — rela- 
tive value is properly called a utility. Of goods, or absolute 
ends, there are for man but two, — perfection and happiness. 
By perfection is meant the full and harmonious development of 
all our faculties, corporeal and mental, intellectual and moral ; 
by happiness, the complement of all the pleasures of which we 
are susceptible. 

Now, I may state, though I cannot at present attempt to 
prove, that human perfection and human happiness coincide, 
and thus constitute, in reality, but a single end. For as, on the 
one hand, the perfection or full development of a power is in 
proportion to its capacity of free, vigorous, and continued 
action, so on the other, all pleasure is the concomitant of activ- 
ity ; its degree being in proportion as that activity is sponta- 
neously intense, its prolongation in proportion as that activity is 
spontaneously continued ; whereas, pain arises either from a 
faculty being restrained in its spontaneous tendency to action, 
or from being urged to a degree, or to a continuance, of energy 

1 a\ 



2 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

beyond the limit to which it of itself freely tends. To pro- 
mote our perfection is thus to promote our happiness ; for to 
cultivate fully and harmoniously our various faculties, is simply 
to enable them, by exercise, to energize longer and stronger 
without painful effort ; that is, to afford us a larger amount of a 
higher quality of enjoyment. 

In considering the utility of a branch of knowledge, it be- 
hooves us, in the first place, to estimate its value as viewed 
simply in itself; and, in the second, its value as viewed in rela- 
tion to other branches. Considered in itself, a science is valua- 
ble in proportion as its cultivation is immediately conducive to 
the mental improvement of the cultivator. This may be called 
its Absolute utility. In relation to others, a science is valuable in 
proportion as its study is necessary for the prosecution of other 
branches of knowledge. This may be called its Relative utility. 

Absolute utility of two kinds — Subjective and Objective, — 
In the former point of view, that is, considered absolutely, or in 
itself, the philosophy of mind comprises two several utilities, 
according as it, 1°, Cultivates the mind or knowing subject, by 
calling its faculties into exercise ; and, 2°, Furnishes the mind 
with a certain complement of truths or objects of knowledge. 
The former of these constitutes its Subjective, the latter its 
Objective utility. These utiHties are not the same, nor do they 
even stand to each other in any necessary proportion. As an 
individual may possess an ample magazine of knowledge, and 
still be little better than an intellectual barbarian, so the utility 
of one science may be chiefly seen in affording a greater num- 
ber of higher and more indisputable truths, — the utility of 
another in determining the faculties to a higher energy, and 
consequently to a higher education. 

There are few, I behe^e, disposed to question the speculative 
dignity of mental science ; but its practical utility is not unfre- 
quently denied. To what, it is asked, is the science of mind 
conducive ? What are its uses ? 

What is Practical Utility? — I am not one of those who 
hink that the importance of a study is sufiiciently established 
▼hen iV dignity is admitted ; for, holding that knowledge is 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PIIILOSOPIlr. 3 

for the sake of man, and not man for the sake of knowledge, it 
is necessary, m order to vindicate its value, that every science 
should be able to show what are the advantages which it prom- 
ises to confer upon its student. I, therefore, profess myself a 
utilitarian ; and it is only on the special ground of its utility that I 
would claim for the philosophy of mind, what I regard as its 
peculiar and preeminent importance. But what is a utilitarian ? 
Simply one who prefers the Useful to the Useless — and who 
does not ? But what is the useful ? That which is prized, not 
on its own account, but as conducive to the acquisition of some- 
thing else, — the useful is, in short, only another word for a 
mean towards an end ; for every mean is useful, and whatever 
is useful is a mean. Now the value of a mean is always in 
proportion to the value of its end ; and the useful being a mean, 
it follows, that, of two utilities, the one which conduces to the 
more valuable end will be itself the more valuable utility. 

So far there is no difference of opinion. All agree that the 
useful is a mean towards an end ; and that, cceteris paribus^ a 
mean towards a higher end constitutes a higher utihty than a 
mean towards a lower. The only dispute that has arisen, or 
can possibly arise, in regard to the utility of. means (supposing 
always their relative efficiency), is founded on the various views 
that may be entertained in regard to the existence and compar- 
ative importance of ends. 

Two errors in the popular estimate of the comparative utility 
of human sciences, — Now the various opinions which prevail 
concerning the comparative utihty of human sciences and stud- 
ies, have all arisen from two errors. 

The first of these consists in viewing man, not as an end 
unto himself but merely as a mean organized for the sake of 
something out of himself ; and, under this partial view of 
human destination, those branches of knowledge obtain exclu- 
sively the name of useful, which tend to qualify a human being 
to act the lowly part of a dexterous instrument. It has been 
the tendency of different ages, of different countries, of different 
ranks and conditions of society, to measure the utility of studies 
rather by one of these standards, than by both. Thus it was 



4 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the bias of antiquity, when the moral and intellectual cultivation 
of the citizen was viewed as the great end of all politicai insti- 
tutions, to appreciate all knowledge principally by the nigher 
standard ; on the contrary, it is unfortunately the bias of our 
modern civilization, since the accumulation (and not too the 
distribution) of riches in a country, has become the grand prob- 
lem of the statesman, to appreciate it rather by the lower. 

The second, and the more dangerous, of these errors consists 
in regarding the cultivation of our faculties as subordinate to 
the acquisition of knowledge, mstead of regardmg the posses- 
sion of knowledge as subordinate to the cultivation of our fac- 
ulties ; and, in consequence of this error, those sciences which 
afford a greater number of more certain facts, have been deemed 
sr.perior in utility to those which bestow a higher cultivation on 
the higher faculties of the mind. 

Man an end unto himself. — As to the first of these errors, 
the fallacy is so palpable, that we may well wonder at its prev- 
alence. It is manifest, mdeed, that man, in so far as he is a 
mean for the glory of God, must be an end unto himself; for it 
is only in the accomplishment of his own perfection, that, as a 
creature, he can manifest the glory of his Creator. Though 
therefore man, by relation to God, be but a mean, for that very 
reason, in relation to all else is he an end. Wherefore, now 
speaking of him exclusively in his natural capacity and tempo- 
ral relations, I say it is manifest that mail is by nature necessa- 
rily an end to himself, — that his perfection and happiness 
constitute the goal of his activity, to which he tends, and ought 
to tend, when not diverted from this, his general and native 
destination, by peculiar and accidental circumstances. But it is 
equally evident, that, under the condition of society, individual 
men are, for the most part, to a greater or less degree, actually 
so diverted. To live, the individual must have the means of 
living; and these means (unless he already possess them) he 
must procure, — he must purchase. But purchase with what? 
With his services, i. e, — he must reduce himself to an instru- 
ment, — an instrument of utihty to others ; and the services of 
this instrument he must barter for those means of subsistence 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY.^ 5 

of which he is in want. In other words, he must exercise some 
trade, calling, or profession. 

Thus, in the actualities of social life, each man, instead of 
being solely an end to himself, — instead of being able to make 
everj thing subordinate to that full and harmonious develop- 
ment of his individual faculties, in which his full perfection and 
his true happiness consist, — is, in general, compelled to degrade 
himself into the mean or instrument towards the accomplish- 
ment of some end external to himself, and for the benefit of 
others. 

Liberal and Professional Education, — Now the perfection 
of man as an end, and the perfection of man as a mean or in- 
strument, are not only not the same ; they are, in reality, gen- 
erally opposed. And as these two perfections are different, 
so the training requisite for their acquisition is not identical, 
and has, accordingly, been distinguished by different names. 
The one is styled Liberal, the other Professional education, — 
the branches of knowledge cultivated for these purposes be- 
ing called respectively liberal and professional, or liberal and 
lucrative, sciences. By the Germans, the latter are usually 
distinguished as the Brodwissenschaften^ which we may trans- 
late. The Bread and Butter Sciences. A few of the professions, 
indeed, as requiring a higher development of the higher faculties, 
and involving, therefore, a greater or less amount of liberal 
education, have obtained the name of liberal professions. We 
must, however, recollect that this is only an accidental and a 
very partial exception. But though the full and harmonious 
development of our faculties be the high and natural destination 
of all, while the cultivation of any professional dexterity is only 
a contingency, though a contingency incumbent upon most, it 
has, however, happened that the paramount and universal end 
of man, — of man absolutely, — has been often ignorantly lost 
sight of, and the term useful appropriated exclusively to those 
acquirements which have a value only to man considered in his 
relative, lower, and accidental character of an instrument. But, 
because some have thus been led to appropriate the name of 
useful to those studies and objects of knowledge, which are 

1=^ 



6 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

conducive to the inferior end, it assuredly does not follow that 
those conducive to the higher have not a far preferable title to 
the name thus curiously denied to them. Even admitting, 
therefore, that the study of mind is of no immediate advantage 
in preparing the student for many of the subordinate parts in 
the mechanism of society, its utility cannot, on that account, be 
called in question, unless it be asserted that man " liveth by 
bread alone," and has no higher destination than that of the 
calling by which he earns his subsistence. 

Knowledge and intellectual cultivation, — The second error 
to which I have adverted, reverses the relative subordination of 
knowledge and of intellectual cultivation. In refutation of this, 
I shall attempt briefly to show, firstly, that knowledge and 
intellectual cultivation are not identical; secondly j that knowl- 
edge is itself principally valuable as a mean of intellectual cul- 
tivation ; and, lastly, that intellectual cultivation is more directly 
and effectually accomplished by the study of mind than by any 
other of our rational pursuits.- 

But to prevent misapprehension, I may premise what I mean 
by knowledge, and what by intellectual cultivation. By knowl- 
edge is understood the mere possession of truths ; by intellectual 
cultivation, or intellectual development, the power, acquired 
through exercise by the higher faculties, of a more varied, vig- 
orous and protracted activity. 

In the first place, then, it will be requisite, I conceive, to say 
but little to show that knowledge and intellectual development 
are not only not the same, but stand in no necessary proportion 
to each other. This is manifest, if we consider the very dif- 
ferent conditions under which these two qualities are acquired. 
The one condition under which all powers, and consequently 
the intellectual faculties, are developed, is exercise. The more 
intense and continuous the exercise, the more vigorously de- 
veloped will be the power. 

But a certain quantity of knowledge, — in other words, a 
certain amount of possessed truths, — does not suppose, as its 
condition, a corresponding sum of intellectual exercise. One 
truth requires much, another truth requires little, effort in 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 7 

acquisition ; and, while the original discovery of a truth evolves 
perhaps a maximum of the highest quality of energy, the sub- 
sequent learning of that truth elicits probably but a minimum 
of the very lowest. 

7^ truth or mental exercise the superior end ? — But, as it is 
evident that the possession of truths, and the development of 
the mind in which they are deposited, are not identical, I pro- 
ceed, in the second place, to show that, considered as ends, and 
in relation to each other, the knowledge of truths is not su- 
preme, but subordinate to the cultivation of the knowing mind. 
The question - — Is Truth, or is the Mental Exercise in the pur- 
suit of truth, the superior end ? — this is perhaps the most 
curious theoretical, and certainly the most important practical, 
problem in the whole compass of philosophy. For, according 
to the solution at which we arrive, must we accord the higher 
or the lower rank to certain great departments of study ; and, 
what is of more importance, the character of its solution, as it 
determines the aim, regulates from first to last the method, 
which an enlightened science of education must adopt. 

But, however curious and important, this question has never, 
in so far as I am aware, been regularly discussed. Nay, what 
is still more remarkable, the erroneous alternative has been 
very generally assumed as true. The consequence of this has 
been, that sciences of far inferior, have been elevated above 
sciences of far superior, utility ; while education has been sys- 
tematically distorted, — though truth and nature have occa- 
sionally burst the shackles which a perverse theory had im- 
posed. The reason of this is sufficiently obvious. At first 
sight, it seems even absurd to doubt that truth is more valuable 
than its pursuit ; for is this not to say that the end is less im- 
portant than the mean? — and on this superficial view is the 
prevalent misapprehension founded. A slight consideration 
will, however, expose the fallacy. 

Practical and specidative Knowledge ; their ends. — Knowl- 
edge is either practical or speculative. In practical knowledge 
it is evident that truth is not the ultimate end ; for, in that case, 
knowledge is, ex hypothesis for the sake of application. The 



8 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHT. 

knowledge of a moral, of a political, of a religious truth, is of 
value only as it affords the preliminary or condition of its exer- 
cise. 

In speculative knowledge, on the other hand, there may 
indeed, at first sight, seem greater difficulty ; but further re- 
flection will prove that speculative truth is only pursued, and is 
only held of value, for the sake of intellectual activity: " Sor- 
det cognita Veritas " is a shrewd aphorism of Seneca. A truth, 
once known, falls into comparative insignificance. It is now 
prized less on its own account, than as opening up new ways to 
new activity, new suspense, new hopes, new discoveries, new 
self-gratulation. Every votary of science is wilfully ignorant 
of a thousand estabhshed facts, — of a thousand which he might 
make his own more easily than he could attempt the disco\'ery 
of even one. But it is not knowledge, — it is not truth, — that 
he principally seeks ; he seeks the exercise of his faculties and 
feelings ; and, as in following after the one, he exerts a greatei 
amount of pleasurable energy than in taking formal possession 
of the thousand, he disdains the certainty of the many, and pre- 
fers the chances of the one. Accordingly, the sciences always 
studied with keenest interest are those in a state of progress 
and uncertainty ; absolute certainty and absolute completion 
would be the paralysis of any study ; and the last worst calam- 
ity that could befall man, as he is at present constituted, would 
be that full and final possession of speculative truth, which he 
now vainly anticipates as the consummation of his intellectual 
happiness. 

" Qusesivit coelo lucem, ingemuitque reperta/' 

I^ut what is true of science, is true, indeed, of all human ac- 
tivity. " In life," as the great Pascal observes, " we always 
believe that we are seeking repose, while, in reality, all that we 
ever seek is agitation." It is ever the contest that pleases us, 
and not the victory. Thus it is in play ; thus it is in hunting ; 
thus it is in the search of truth ; thus it is in life. The past 
does not interest, the present does not satisfy, the future alone 
is the object which engages us. 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 9 

" (Nullo votorum fine beati) 
Victuras agimus semper, nee vivimus unquam." 

The question, I said, has never been regularly discussed, — 
probably because it lay in too narrow a compass ; but no philos- 
opher appears to have ever seriously proposed it to himself, who 
did not resolve it in contradiction to the ordinary opinion. A 
contradiction of this opinion is even involved in the very term 
Philosophy ; and the man who first declared that he was not a 
aocpog, or possessor, but a (filooocpog, or seeker of truth, at once 
enounced tile true end of human speculation, and embodied it in 
a significant name. Under the same conviction, Plato defines 
man " the hunter of truth," foV science is a chase, and in a chase, 
the pursuit is always of greater value than the game. 

" The intellect," says Aristotle, in one passage, " is perfected, 
not by knowledge, but by activity ; " and in another, " The arts 
and sciences are powers, but every power exists only for the 
sake of action ; the end of philosophy, therefore, is not knowl- 
edge, but the energy conversant about knowledge." The pro- 
foundest thinkers of modern times have emphatically testified 
to the same great principle. " If," says Malebranche, " I held 
truth captive in my hand, I should open my hand and let it fly, 
in order that I might again pursue and capture it." " Did the 
Almighty," says Lessing, " holding in his right hand Truth, and 
in his left Search after Truth, deign to tender me the one I 
might prefer, — in all humility, but without hesitation, I should 
request Search after Truths [We exist only as we energize ; 
pleasure is the reflex of unimpeded energy ; energy is the 
means by which our faculties are developed; and a higher 
energy the end which their development proposes. In action is 
thus contained the existence, happiness, improvement, and per- 
fection of our being ; and knowledge is only precious, as it may 
afford a stimulus to the exercise of our powers, and the condi- 
tion of their more complete activity. Speculative truth is, 
therefore, subordinate to speculation itself; and its value is 
directly measured by the quantity of energy which it occa- 
sions, — immediately m its discovery, — mediately through its 
consequences. Life' to Endymion was not preferable to death* 



IJ UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

aloof from practice, a waking error is better than a sbeping 
truth. — Neither, in point of fact, is there found any proportion 
between the possession of truths, and the developmemt of the 
mind in which they are deposited. Every learner in science is 
now famihar with more truths than Aristotle .or Plato ever 
dreamt of knowing ; yet, conipared with the Stagirite or the 
A^thenian, how few, even of our masters of modern science, 
rank higher than intellectual barbarians ! Ancient Greece and 
modern Europe prove, indeed, that " the march of intellect " is 
no inseparable concomitant of " the march of science, ; " — that 
the cultivation of the individual is not to be rashly confounded 
with the progress of the species.] - — Discussions, 

Philosophy best entitled to he called useful, — But if specula- 
tive truth itself be only valuable as a mean of intellectual 
activity, those studies which determine the faculties to a more 
vigorous exertion, will, in every Mberal sense, be better entitled, 
absolutely, to the name of useful, than those which, with a 
greater complement of more certain facts, awaken them to a 
less intense, and consequently to a less improving exercise. 
On this ground I would rest one of the preeminent utihties of 
mental philosophy. That it comprehends all the subhmest 
objects of our theoretical and moral interest ; — that every 
(natural) conclusion concerning God, the soul, the present 
worth and the future destiny of man, is exclusively deduced 
from the philosophy of mind, will be at once admitted. But I 
do not at present found the im|5ortance on the paramount dig- 
nity of the pursuit. It is as the best gymnastic of the mind, — 
as a mean, principally, and almost exclusively, conducive to the 
highest education of our noblest powers, that I would vindicate 
to these speculations the necessity which has too frequently 
been denied them. By no other intellectual application is the 
mind thus reflected on itself, and its faculties aroused to such 
independent, vigorous, unwonted, and continued energy ; — by 
none, therefore, are its best capacities so variously and intensely 
evolved. " By turning," says Burke, " the soul inward on 
itself, its forces are concentred, and are fitted for greater and 
stronger flights of science ; and in this pursuit, whether we 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 11 

take or whether we lose our game, the chase is certamly of 
.service." 

These principles being established, it follows, that I must 
regard the main duty of a Professor to consist not simply in 
communicating information, but in doing this in such a manner, 
and with such an accompaniment of subsidiary means, that the 
information he conveys may be the occasion of awakening his 
pupils to a vigorous and varied exertion of their faculties. 
Self-activity is the indispensable condition of improvement ; 
and education is only education, — that is, accomplishes its pur- 
pose, only by affording objects and supplying incitements to this 
spontaneous exertion. Strictly speaking, every one must edu- 
cate himself. [All profitable study is a silent disputation — an 
intellectual gymnastic ; and the most improving books are pre- 
cisely those which most excite the reader, — to understand the 
author, to supply what he has omitted, and to canvass his facts 
and reasonings. To read passively, . to learn, — is, in reality, 
not to learn at all. In study, implicit faith, belief upon au- 
thority, is worse even than, for a time, erroneous speculation. 
To read profitably, we should read the authors, not most in 
unison with, but most adverse to, our opinions ; for w^hatever 
may be the case in the cure of bodies, enantiopathy, and not 
homceopathy^ is the true medicine of minds. Accordingly, 
such sciences and such authors as present only unquestionable 
truths, determining a minimum of self-activity in the student, 
are, in a rational education, subjectively naught. Those sciences 
and authors, on the contrary, who constrain the student to inde- 
pendent thought, are, whatever may be their objective cer- 
tainty, subjectively, educationally, best.] — Discussions. 

But though the common duty of all academical instructors be 
the cultivation of the student, through the awakened exercise 
of his faculties, this is more especially incumbent on those to 
whom is intrusted the department of liberal education ; for, in 
this department, the pupil is trained, not to any mere profes- 
sional knowledge, but to the command and employment of his 
faculties in general. But, moreover, the same obligation is 
specially imposed upon a professor of intellectual philosophy, 



12 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

by the peculiar nature of his subject, and the conditions under 
which alone it can be taught. The phsenomena of the external 
world are so palpable and so easily described, that the expe- 
rience of one observer suffices to render the facts he has wit- 
nessed intelligible and probable to all. The phaenomena of the 
internal world, on the contrary, are not capable of being thus 
described : all that the prior observer can do, is to enable 
others to repeat his experience. • In the science of mind, we 
can neither understand nor be convinced of any thing at second 
hand. Here testimony can impose no behef ; and instruction 
is only instruction as it enables us to teach ourselves. A fact 
of consciousness, however accurately observed, however clearly 
described, and however great may be our confidence in the 
observer, is for us as zero, until we have observed and recog- 
nized it ourselves. Till that be done, we cannot reahze its pos- 
sibility, far less admit its truth. Thus it is that, in the philoso- 
phy of mind, instruction can do little more than point out the 
position in which the pupil ought to place himself, in order ta 
verify, by his own experience, the facts which his instructor 
proposes to him as true. The instructor, therefore, proclaims, 
ov qjiloGocpia, dlXa q)iXoooq}8ip ; he does not profess to tesich phi" 
losophy, but to philosophize. It is this condition imposed upon 
the student of doing every thing himself, that renders the study 
of the mental sciences the most improving exercise of intel- 
lect. 

Philosophy: its Objective utility, — I [have] endeavored to 
show that all knowledge is only for the sake of energy, and that 
even merely speculative truth is valuable only as it determines 
a greater quantity of higher power into activity. I [have] also 
endeavored to show that, on the standard of Subjective utility, 
philosophy is of all our studies the most useful ; inasmuch as 
more than any other it exercises, and consequently develops to 
a higher degree, and in a more varied manner, our noblest fac- 
ulties. I shall [now] confine myself to certain views of the 
importance of philosophy estimated by the standard of its Ob- 
jective utility. 

The human mind the noblest object of speculation, — Consid- 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF rHILOSOHlY. 13 

ered in itself, a knowledge of the human mind, whether we 
regard its speculative or its practical importance, is confessedly 
of all studies the highest and the most interesting. " On earth," 
says an ancient philosopher, " there is nothing great but man ; 
in man^ there is nothing great but mind." No other study fills 
and satisfies the soul like the study of itself. No other science 
presents an object to be compared in dignity, in absolute or in 
relative value, to that which human consciousness furnishes to 
its own contemplation. What is of all things the best, asked 
Chilon of the Oracle. " To know thyself," was the response. 
This is, in fact, the only science in which all are always inter- 
ested ; for, while each individual may have his favorite occupa- 
tion, it still remains true of the species, that " the proper study 
of mankind is man." " For the world," says Sir Thomas 
Browne, " I count it not an inn, but an hospital ; and a place 
not to live, but to die in. The world that I regard is myself ; 
it is the microcosm of my own frame that I cast mine eye on ; 
for the other, I use it but like my globe, and turn it round some- 
times, for my recreation The earth is a point, not only 

in respect of the heavens above us, but of that heavejily and 
celestial part within us. That mass of flesh that circumscribes 
me, limits not my mind. That surface that tells the heavens it 

hath an end, cannot persuade me I have any Whilst I 

study to find how I am a microcosm, or little world, I find my- 
self something more than the great. There is surely a piece 
of divinity in us ; something that was before the elements, and 
owes no homage unto the sun. Nature tells me, I am the 
image of God, as well as Scripture. . He that understands not 
thus much hath not his introduction or first lesson, and is jet 
to begin the alphabet of man." 

Relation of Psychology to Theology, — But, though mind, 
considered in itself, be the noblest object of speculation which 
the created universe presents to the curiosity of man, it is under 
a certain relation that I would now attempt to illustrate its 
utility ; for mind rises to its highest dignity when viewed as the 
object through which, and through which alone, our unassisted 
reason can ascend to the knowledge of a God. The' Deity is 



14 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

not an object of immediate contemplation ; as existing and in 
himself, he is beyond our reach ; we can know him only medi- 
ately through his works, and are only warranted in assuming 
his existence as a certain kind of cause necessary to account 
for a certain state of things, of whose reality our faculties are 
supposed to inform us. The affirmation of a God being thus a 
regressive inference, from the existence of a special class of 
etfects to the existence of a special character of cause, it is evi- 
dont, that the whole argument hinges on the fact, — Does a 
state of things really exist such as is only possible through the 
agency of a Divine Cause? For if it can be shown that such 
a state of things does not really exist, then our inference to the 
kind of cause requisite to account for it is necessarily nujl. 

Argument founded exclusively on the phcenomena of mind, — 
This being understood, I now proceed to show that the class of 
phaenomena which requires that kind of cause we denominate a 
Deity, is exclusively given in the^ phenomena of mind, — that 
the phsenomena of matter, taken by themselves (you will observe 
the qualification, ' taken by themselves '), so far from warranting 
any inference to the existence of a God, would, on the contrary, 
ground even an argument to his negation, — that the study of 
the external world taken with, and in subordination to, that 
of the internal, not only loses its atheistic tendency, but, under 
such subservience, may be rendered conducive to the great con- 
clusion, from which, if left to itself, it would dissuade us. 

We must, first of all, then, consider what kind of cause it is 
which constitutes a Deity, and what kind of efiects they are 
which allow us to infer that a Deity must be. 

The notion of a God — what, — The notion of a God is not 
contained in the notion of a mere First Cause ; for in the 
admission of a first cause, Atheist and Theist are at one. 
Neither is this notion completed by -adding to a first cause the 
attribute of Omnipotence ; for the atheist who holds matter or 
necessity to be the original principle of all that is, does not 
convert his blind force into a God, by merely affirming it to be 
all-powerful. It is not until the two great attributes of Intelli- 
gence and Virtue (and be it observed that virtue involves Lib- 



CTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 15 

erty) — I say, it is not until the two attributes of intelligence 
and virtue or holiness are brought in, that the belief in a pri- 
mary and omnipotent cause becomes the belief in a veritable 
Divinity. But these latter attributes are not more essential to 
the divine nature than are the former. For as original and 
infinite power does not of itself constitute a God, neither is a 
God constituted by intelligence and virtue, unless intelligence 
and goodness be themselves conjoined with this original and 
infinite power. For even a Creator, intelhgent, and good, and 
powerful, would be no God, were he dependent for his intelH- 
gence and goodness and power on any higher principle. On 
this supposition, the perfections of the Creator are viewed as 
limited and derived. He is himself, therefore, only a depen- 
dency, — only a creature ; and if a God there be, he must be 
sought for in that higher principle, from which this subordinate 
principle derives its attributes. Now is this highest principle 
(ex hypothesi all-powerful) also intelligent and moral, then it is 
itself alone the veritable Deity ; on the other hand is it, though 
the author of intelligence and goodness in another, itself unin- 
telligent, — then is a blind Fate constituted the first and uni- 
versal cause, and atheism is asserted. 

Conditions of the proof of the existence of a God, — The 
peculiar attributes which distinguish a Deity from the original 
omnipotence or bhnd fate of the atheist, being thus those of 
intelligence and hohness of will, — - and the assertion of theism 
being only the assertion that the universe is created by intelli- 
gence, and governed not only by physical but by moral laws, 
we have next to consider how we are warranted in these two 
affirmations ; 1 ^, That intelligence stands first in the absolute 
order of existence, — in other words, that final preceded 
efficient causes ; and, 2°, That the universe is governed by 
moral laws. 

The proof of these two propositions is the proof of a God : 
and it establishes its foundation exclusively on the phaenomena 
of mind. I shall endeavor to show you this, in regard to both 
these propositions ; but, before considering how far the phse- 
nomena of mind and of matter do and do not allow us to infer 



16 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the one position or the other, I must solicit your attention to 
the characteristic contrasts which these two classes of phae- 
nomena in themselves exhibit. 

Contrasts of the phcenomena of matter and mind, — In the 
compass of our experience, we distinguish two series of facts, — 
the facts of the external or material world, and the facts of the 
internal world or world of intelligence. These concomitant 
series of phasnomena are not like streams which merely run 
parallel to each other ; they do not, hke the Alpheus and Are- 
thusa, flow on side by side without a comminghng of their 
waters. They cross, they combine, they are interlaced ; but 
notwithstanding their intimate connection, their mutual action 
and reaction, we are able to discriminate them without diffi- 
culty, because they are marked out by characteristic dif- 
ferences. 

The phaenomena of the material world are subjected to im- 
mutable laws, are produced and reproduced in the same inva- 
riable succession, and manifest only the blind force of a 
mechanical necessity. 

The phaenomena of man are, in part, subjected to the laws 
of the external universe. As dependent upon a bodily organi- 
zation, as actuated by sensual propensities and animal wants, he 
belongs to matter, and, in this respect, he is the slave of neces- 
sity. But what man holds of matter does not make up his 
personality. They are his, not he ; man is not an organism, — 
he is an intelligence served by organs. For in man there are 
tendencies, — there is a law, — which continually urge him to 
prove that he is more powerful than the nature by which he is 
surrounded and penetrated. He is conscious to himself of fac- 
ulties not comprised in the chain of physical necessity ; his intel- 
ligence reveals prescriptive principles of action, absolute and 
universal, in the Law of Duty, and a liberty capable of carrying 
that law into effect, in opposition to the solicitations, the im- 
pulsions, of his material nature. From the coexistence of these 
opposing, forces in man, there results a ceaseless struggle 
between physical necessity and moral liberty, — in the language 
of Revelation, between the Flesh and the Spirit ; and this 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 17 

Struggle constitutes at once the distinctive character of human- 
ity, and the essential condition of human development and 
virtue. 

In the facts of intelligence, we thus become aware of an 
order of existence diametrically in contrast to that displayed to 
us in the facts of the material universe. There is made known 
to us an order of things, in which intelligence, by recognizing 
the unconditional law of duty and an absolute obligation to fulfil 
it, recognizes its own possession of a liberty incompatible with 
a dependence upon fate, and of a power capable of resisting 
and conquering the counteraction of our animal nature. 

Consciousness of freedom^ and of a law of duty, the condi- 
tions of Theology. — Now, it is only as man is a free intelli- 
gence, a moral power, that he is created after the image of 
God, and it is only as a spark of divinity glows as the life of 
our life in us, that we can rationally believe in an Intelligent 
Creator and Moral Governor of the universe. For, let us sup- 
pose, that in man intelligence is the product of organization, 
that our consciousness of moral liberty is itself only an illu- 
sion ; in short, that acts of volition are results of the same iron 
necessity which determines the phaenomena of matter ; — on 
this supposition, I say, the foundations of all religion, natural 
and revealed, are subverted. 

The truth of this will be best seen by applying the supposi- 
tion of the two positions of theism previously stated — namely, 
that the notion of God necessarily supposes, 1°, That in the 
absolute order of existence, intelligence should be first, that is, 
not itself the product of an unintelligent antecedent ; and, 2°, 
That the universe should be governed not only by physical, but 
by moral laws. 

Analogy between our experience and the absolute order of 
existence. — Now, in regard to the former, how can we attempt 
to prove that the universe is the creation of a free original 
intelligence, against the counter-position of the atheist, that lib- 
erty is an illusion, and intelligence, or the adaptation of means 
to ends, only the product of a blind fate ? As we know noth- 
ing of the absolute order of existence in itself, we can onlj 

2* 



18 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

attempt to infer its cliaracter from that of the particular order 
within the sphere of our experience ; and as we can affirm 
naught of mteUigence and its conditions, except what we may- 
discover from the observation of our own minds, it is evident 
that we can only analogically carry out into the order of the 
universe the relation in which we find intelligence to stand in 
the order of the human constitution. If in man intelligence be 
a free power, — in so far as its liberty extends, intelligence 
must be independent of necessity and matter ; and a powei 
independent of matter necessarily ijnplies the existence of an 
immaterial subject, — that is, a spirit. If, then, the original 
independence of intelligence on matter in the human constitu- 
tion, in other words, if the spirituality of mind in man, be sup- 
posed a datum of observation, in this datum is also given both 
the condition and the proof of a God. For we have only to 
infer, what analogy entitles us to do, that intelligence holds the 
same relative supremacy in the universe which it holds in us, 
and the first positive condition of a Deity is established, in the 
estabhshment of the absolute priority of a free creative intelli- 
gence. On the other hand, let us suppose the result of our 
study of man to be, that intelligence is only a product of mat- 
ter, only a reflex of organization, such a doctrine would not 
only afford no basis on which to rest arfy argument for a God, 
but, on the contrary, would positively warrant the atheist in 
denying his existence. For if, as the materialist maintains, the 
only intelligence of which we have any experience be a conse- 
quent of matter, — on this hypothesis, he not only caimot 
assume this order to be reversed in the relations of an intelli- 
gence beyond his observation, but, if he argue logically, he 
must positively conclude, that, as in man, so in the universe, 
the phaenomena of intelligence or design are only in their last 
analysis the products of a brute necessity. Psychological ma- 
terialism, if carried out fully and fairly to its conclusions, thus 
inevitably results in theological atheism ; as it has been well 
expressed by Dr. Henry More, nullus in microcosmo spiritus, 
nullus in macrocosmo Deus, I do not, of course, mean to assert 
that all matf^iialists deny, or actually disbelieve, a God. For, 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY.' VJ 

ill very many cases, this would be at once an unmerited compli- 
ment to their reasoning, and an unmerited reproach to their 
faith. 

Second condition of the proof of a Deity. — Such is the man- 
ifest dependence of our theology on our psychology in refer- 
ence to the first condition of a Deity, — the absolute priority 
of a free intelligence. But this is perhaps even more con- 
spicuous in relation to the second, that the universe is gov- 
erned not merely by physical but by moral laws ; for God is 
only God inasmuch as he is the Moral Governor of a Moral 
World. 

Our interest, also, in its establishment is incomparably greater ; 
for while a proof that the universe is the work of an omnipotent 
intelligence, gratifies only our speculative curiosity, — a proof 
that there is a holy legislator, by whom goodness and felicity 
will be ultimately brought into accordance, is necessary to satisfy 
both our intellect and our heart. A God is, indeed, to us, only 
of practical * interest, inasmuch as he is the condition of our 
immortality. 

Now, it is self-evident, in the first place, that, if there be no 
moral world, there can be no moral governor of such a world ; 
and, in the second, that we have, and can have, no ground on 
which to believe in the reality of a moral world, except in so 
far as we ourselves are moral agents. This being undeniable, 
it is further evident, that, should we ever be convinced that we 
are not moral agents, we should likewise be convinced that there 
exists no moral order in the universe, and no supreme intelli- 
gence by which that moral order is established, sustained, and 
regulated. 

Theology is thus again wholly dependent on Psychology ; 
for, with the proof of the moral nature of man, stands or falls 
the proof of the existence of a Deity.* 

^ [It is chiefly, if not solely, to explain the one phenomenon of morality^ 
— oi freewill, that we are warranted in assuming a second and hyperphysi- 
cal substance, in an immaterial principle of thought ; for it is only on the 
supposition of a moral liberty in man, that we can attempt to vindicate, as 
truths, a moral order, and, consequently, a moral governor in the universe ; 



20 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Wherein the moral agency of man consists* — But in what 
does the character of man as a moral agent consist ? Man is a 
moral agent only as he is accountable for his actions, — in other 
words, as he is the object of praise or blame; and this he is, 
only inasmuch as he has prescribed to him a rule of duty, and 
as he is able to act, or not to act, in conformity with its precepts. 
The possibihty of morality thus depends on the possibility of 
liberty ; for, if man be not a free agent, he is not the author 
of his actions, and has^ therefore, no responsibility, — no moral 
personality at all. 
}^ How philosophy estaUishes human liberty. — Now the study 
of Philosophy, or mental science, operates in three ways to 
establish that assurance of human liberty, which is necessary 
for a rational belief in our own moral nature, in a moral world, 
and in a moral ruler of that world. In the first place, an atten- 
tive consideration of the phaenomena of mind is requisite in order 
to a luminous and distinct apprehension of hberty as a fact or 
datum of intelligence. For though, without philosophy, a natu- 
ral conviction of free agency lives and works in the recesses of 
every human mind, it requires a process of philosophical thought 
to bring this conviction to clear consciousness and scientific cer- 
tainty. In the second place, a profound philosophy is necessary 

and it is only on the hypothesis of a soul within us, that we can assert the 
reality of a God above us. 

In the hands of the materialist, or physical necessitarian, every argument 
for the existence of a Deity is either annulled or reversed into a demonstra- 
tion of atheism. In his hands, with the moral worth of man, the inference 
to a moral ruler of a moral universe is gone. In his hands, the argument 
from the adaptations of end and mean, everywhere apparent in existence, to 
the primary causality of intelligence and liberty, if applied, establishes, in 
fact, the primary causality of necessity and matter. For, as this argument 
IS only an extension to the universe of the analogy observed in man ; if in 
man, design, inteUigence, be only a phenomenon of matter, only a reflex of 
organization ; this consecution of first and second in us, extended to the 
universal order of things, reverses the absolute priority of intelligence to 
matter; that is, subverts the fundamental condition of a Deity. Tims it is, 
that our theology is necessarily founded on our psychology; that we must 
recognize a God in our own viinds, befoi'e we can detect a God in the universe 
of nature.] — Discussions. 



LTILLTY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 21 

to obviate the difficulties which meet us v/hen we attempt to 
explain the possibility of this fact, and to prove that the datum 
of liberty is not a mere illusion. For though ah unconquerable 
feeling compels us to recognize ourselves as accountable, and 
therefore free, agents, still, when we attempt to realize in 
thought how the fact of our liberty can be, we soon find that 
this altogether transcends our understanding, and that every 
effort to bring the fact of liberty within the compass of our con- 
ceptions, only results in the substitution in its place of some 
more or less disguised form of necessity. For, — if I may be 
allowed to use expressions which many of you cannot be sup 
posed at present to understand, — we are only able to conceive 
a thing, inasmuch as we conceive it under conditions ; while 
the possibility of a free act supposes it to be an act which is not 
conditioned or determined. The tendency of a superficial phi- 
losophy is, therefore, to deny the fact of hberty, on the principle 
that what cannot be conceived is impossible. A deeper and 
more comprehensive study of the facts of mind overturns this 
conclusion, and disproves its foundation. It shows that, — so 
far from the principle being true, that what is inconceivable is 
impossible, — on the contrary, all that is conceivable is a mean 
between two contradictory extremes, both of which are incon- 
ceivable, but of which, as mutually repugnant, one or the other 
must be true. Thus philosophy, in demonstrating that the 
limits of thought are not to be assumed as the limits of possibil- 
ity, while it admits the weakness of our discursive intellect, 
reestablishes the authority of consciousness, and vindicates the 
veracity of our primitive convictions. It proves to us, from the 
very laws of mind, that while we can never understand how any 
original datum of intelligence is possible, we have no reason 
frona this inability to doubt that it is true. A learned ignorance 
is thus the end of philosophy, as it is the beginning of theology. 
In the third place, the study of mind is necessary to counter- 
balance and correct the influence of the study of matter ; and 
this utility of metaphysics rises in proportion to the progress 
of the natural sciences, and to the greater attention which they 
engross. 



22 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Twofold evil of exclusive physical study, — An exclusive de- 
votion to physical pursuits exerts an evil influence in two ways. 
Tn the first plac^, it diverts from all notice of the phaenomena of 
aoral liberty, which are revealed to us in the recesses of the 
human mind alone ; and it disqualifies from appreciating the 
import of these phaenomena, even if presented, by leaving un- 
cultivated the finer power of psychological reflection, in the 
exclusive exercise of the faculties employed in the easier and 
more amusing observation of the external world. In the second 
place, by exhibiting merely the phaenomena of matter and exten- 
sion, it habituates us only to the contemplation of an order in 
which every thing is determined by the laws of a blind or me- 
chanical necessity. Now, what is the inevitable tendency of 
this one-sided and exclusive study ? That the student becomes 
a materiahst, if he speculate at all. For, in the first place, he 
is familiar with the obtrusive facts of necessity, and is unaccus- 
tomed to develop into consciousness the more recondite facts of 
liberty ; he is, therefore, disposed to disbelieve in the existence 
of phaenomena whose reality he may deny, and whose possibility 
he cannot understand. At the same time, the love of unity, and 
the philosophical presumption against the multiplication of es- 
sences, determine him to reject the assumption of a second, and 
that an hypothetical, substance, — ignorant as he is of the rea- 
sons by which that assumption is legitimated. 

In the infancy of science, this tendency of physical study was 
not experienced. When men first turned their attention on the 
phaenomena of nature, every event was viewed as a miracle, for 
every effect was considered as the operation of an intelligence. 
God was not exiled from the universe^ of matter ; on the con- 
trary, he was multiplied in proportion to its phaenomena. As 
science advanced, the deities were gradually driven out; and 
long after the sublunary world had been disenchanted, they 
were left for a season in possession of the starry heavens. The 
movement of the celestial bodies, in which Kepler still saw the 
agency of a free intelligence, was at length by Newton resolved 
into a few mathematical principles ; and at last, even the irregu- 
larities which Newton was compelled to leave for the miraculous 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 23 

correction of the Deity, have been proved to require no super- 
natural interposition ; for La Place has shown that all contin- 
gencies, past and future, in the heavens, fi];id their explanation 
in the one fundamental law of gravitation. 

But the very contemplation of an order and adaptation so 
astonishing, joined to the knowledge that this order and adapta- 
tion are the necessary results of a brute mechanism, — when 
acting upon minds which have not looked into themselves for 
the light of which the world without can only afford them the 
reflection, — far from elevating them more than any other aspect 
of external creation to that inscrutable Being who reigns beyond 
and above the universe of nature, tends, on the contrary, to im- 
press on them, with peculiar force, the conviction, that as the 
mechanism of nature can explain so much, the mechanism of 
nature can explaiu all. 

If all existence he hut mechanism^ pMlosopMcal interest extin- 
guished, — "Wonder," says Aristotle, "is the first cause of 
philosophy:" but in the discovery that all existence is but 
mechanism, the consummation of science would be an extinction 
of the very interest from which it originally sprang. " Even 
the gorgeous majesty of the heavens," says a religious philoso- 
pher, "the object of a kneeling adoration to an infant world, 
subdues no more the mind of him who comprehends the one 
mechanical law by which the planetary systems move, maintain 
their motion, and even originally form themselves. He no 
longer wonders at the object, infinite as it always is, but at the 
human intellect alone, which, in a Copernicus, Kepler, Gassendi, 
Newton, and La Place, was able to transcend the object, by 
science to terminate the miracle, to reave the heaven of its di- 
vinities, and to exorcise the universe. But even this, the only 
admiration of which our iutelligent faculties are now capable 
would vanish, were a future Hartley, Darwin, Condillac, oi 
Bonnet, to succeed in displaying to us a mechanical system of 
the human mind, as comprehensive, intelligible, and satisfactory 
as the Newtonian mechanism of the heavens." 

To this testimony I may add, that, should Physiology ever 
succeed in reducing the facts of intelligence to phaenomena of 



24 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

matter, Philosophy would be subverted in the subversion of its 
three great objects, — God, Free- Will, and Immcrtalitj. True 
wisdom would then consist, not in speculation, but m repressing 
bought during our brief transit from nothingness to nothingness. 
For why ? Philosophy would have become a meditation, not 
merely of death, but of annihilation ; the precept, Kiioio thy- 
self^ would have been replaced by the terrific oracle to CEdipus — 

" May'st thou ne'er know the truth of what thou art ; " 

and the final recompense of our scientific curiosity would be 
wailing, deeper than Cassandra's, for the ignorance that saveO 
us from despair. 

Coincidence of these views with those of previous philoso- 
phers, — The views which I have now taken of the respective 
Influence of the sciences of mind and of matter in relation to 
our religious behef, are those which have been deliberately 
adopted by the profoundest thinkers, ancient and modern. 
Were I to quote to you the testimonies that crowd on my recol- 
lection, to the efiect that ignorance of Self is ignorance of God, 
I should make no end, for this is a truth proclauned by Jew 
and Gentile, Christian and Mohammedan. "The cause," says 
Plato, " of all impiety and irrehgion among men is, that, revers- 
ing in themselves the relative subordination of mind and body, 
they have, in like manner, in the universe, made that to be first 
which is second, and that to be second which is first ; for while, 
in the generation of all things, inteUigence and final causes pre- 
cede matter and efficient causes, they, on the contrary, have 
viewed matter and material things as absolutely prior, in the 
order of existence, to intelligence and design ; and thus, depart- 
ing from an original error in relation to themselves, they have 
ended in the subversion of the Godhead." 

The pious and profound Jacobi states the truth boldly and 
without disguise in regard to the relation of Physics and Meta- 
physics to Religion. " But is it unreasonable to confess, that 
we believe in God, not by reason of the nature * which con- 

^ In the philosophy of Germany, Natur and its correlatives, whether 
of Greek or Latin derivation, are, in general, expressive of the world of 
Matter, in contrast to the world of Intelligence. 



UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 25 

ceals him, but by reason of the supernatural in man, which 
alone reveals and proves him to exist ? 

'' Nature conceals God : for through her whole domain. 
Nature reveals only fate, only an indissohible chain of mere 
efficient causes witJiout beginning and without end, excluding, 
with equal necessity, both providence and chance. An inde- 
pendent agency, a free original commencement within her 
sphere and proceeding from her powers, is absolutely impossi- 
ble. Workino; without will, she takes counsel neither of the 
good nor of the beautiful ; creating nothing, she casts up from 
her dark abyss only eternal transformations of herself, uncon- 
sciously and without an end ; furthering, with the same cease- 
less industry, decline and increase, death and life, — never pro- 
ducing what alone is of God and what supposes liberty, — the 
virtuous, the immortal. 

"- Man reveals God : for man, by his intelligence, rises above 
nature, and, in virtue of this intelligence, is conscious of himself 
as a power not only independent of, but opposed to, nature, and 
capable of resisting, conquering, and controlhng her. As man 
has a living faith in this power, superior to nature, which dwells 
in him ; so has he a belief in God, a feeling, an experience of 
his existence. As he does not believe in this power, so does he 
not beli®ve in God ; he sees, he experiences naught in exist- 
ence but nature, — necessity, — fate." 

These uses of Psychology not superseded hy the Christian 
revelation, — Such is the comparative importance of the sci- 
ences of mind and of matter in relation to the interests of 
religion. But it may be said, how great soever be the value of 
philosophy in this respect, were man left to rise to the divinity 
by the unaided exercise of his faculties, this value is superseded 
under the Christian dispensation, the Gospel now assuring us 
of all and more than all philosophy could ever warrant us in 
surmismg. It is true, indeed, that in Revelation there is con- 
tained a great complement of truths of which natural reason 
could afford us no knowledge or assurance ; but still the impor- 
tance of mental science to theology has not become superfluous 
in Christianity; for whereas, anterior to Revelation, religion 



26 UTILITY OF THE STUDY OF PHILOSOPHY. 

rises out of psycliology as a result, subsequently to revelation, 
it supposes a genuine philosophy of mind as the condition of 
its truth. This is at once manifest. Revelation is a revelation 
to man and concerning man ; and man is only the object of 
revelation, inasmuch as he is a moral, a free, a responsible 
being. The Scriptures are replete with testimonies to our 
natural liberty ; and it is the doctrine of every Christian 
church, that man was originally created with a will capable 
equally of good as of evil, though this will, subsequently to the 
fall, has lost much of its primitive liberty. Christianity thus, 
by universal confession, supposes as a condition the moral 
nature of its object ; and if some individual theologians be 
found who have denied to man a higher liberty than a machine, 
this is only another example of the truth, that there is no 
opinion which has been unable to find not only its champions 
but its martyrs. The differences which divide the Christian 
churches on this question, regard only the Hberty of man in 
certain particular relations ; for fatalism, or a negation of human 
responsibility in general, is equally hostile to the tenets of the 
Calvinist and Arminian. 

In these circumstances, it is evident, that he who disbelieves 
the moral agency of man must, in consistency with that opinion, 
disbelieve Christianity. And therefore, inasmuch as Philoso- 
phy, — the Philosophy of Mind, — scientifically establishes the 
proof of human hberty, philosophy, in this, as in many other 
relations not now to be considered, is the true preparative and 
best aid of an enlightened Christian Theology. 



CHAPTER II. 

THE NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 

You are about to commence a course of philosophical disci- 
pline ; — for Psychology is preeminently a philosophical science. 
It is therefore proper that you should obtain at least a notion 
of what philosophy is. But in affording you this information, 
it is evident that there lie considerable difficulties in the way. 
For the definition and the divisions of philosophy are the results 
of a lofty generalization from particulars, of which particulars 
you are, or must be presumed to be, still ignorant. You cannot, 
therefore, it is manifest, be made adequately to comprehend, in 
the commencement of your philosophical studies, notions which 
these studies themselves are intended to enable you to under- 
stand. But although you cannot at once obtain a full knowledge 
of the nature of philosophy, it is desirable that you should be 
enabled to form at least some vague conception of the road you 
are about to travel, and of the point to which it will conduct 
you. I mustj therefore, beg that you will, for the present, 
hypothetically believe, — believe upon authority, — what you 
may not now adequately understand ; but this only to the end 
that you may not hereafter be under the necessity of taking any 
conclusion upon trust. Nor is this temporary exaction of credit 
peculiar to philosophical education. In the order of nature, 
belief always precedes knowledge, — it is the condition of in- 
struction. The child (as observed by Aristotle) must believe, 
in order that he may learn ; and even the primary facts of intel- 
ligence, — the facts which precede, as they afford the conditions 
of, all knowledge, — would not be original, were they revealed 
to us under any other form than that of natural or necessary 
beliefs. 

(27i 



28 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 

There are two question.s to be answered : — 1 st. What is the 
meaning of the name ? and 2d, What is the meaning of the 
thing f An answer to the former question is afforded in a nomi- 
nal definition of the term philosophy^ and in a history of its em- 
ployment and application. 

Philosophy — the name. — - In regard to the etymological sig- 
nification of the word. Philosophy is a term of Greek origin. 
It is a compound of qjiXog, a lover or friend, and Gocpia,^ wisdom 
— speculative wisdom. Philosophy is thus, literally, a love of 
wisdom. But if the grammatical meaning, of the word be un- 
ambiguous, the history of its application is, I think, involved in 
considerable doubt. According to the commonly received ac- 
count, the designation of philosopher (lover or suitor of wisdom) 
was first assumed and applied by Pythagoras ; whilst of the 
occasion and circumstances of its assumption, we have a story 
by Cicero, on the authority of Heraclides Ponticus. Pythagoras, 
once upon a time, says the Roman orator, having come to Phlius, 
a city of Peloponnesus, displayed, in a conversation which he 
had with Leon, who then governed that city, a range of knowl- 
edge so extensive, that the prince, admiring his eloquence and 
ability, inquired to what art he had principally devoted himself. 
Pythagoras answered, that he professed no art, and was simply 
a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the name, again 
inquired who were the philosophers, and in what they differed 
from other men. Pythagoras repHed, that human Kfe seemed 
to resemble the great fair, held on occasion of those solemn 
games which all Greece met to celebrate. For some, exercised 
in athletic contests, resorted thither in quest of glory and the 
crown of victory ; while a greater number flocked to them in 
order to buy and sell, attracted by the love of gain. There 
were a few, however, — and they were those distinguished by 
their liberality and mtelligence, — who came from no motive of 
glory or of gain, but simply to look about them, and to take note 
of what was done, and in what manner. So likewise, continued 

^ 2o(pca in Greek, though sometimes used in a wide sense, like the term 
wise apphed to skill in handicraft, jet properly denoted speculative, not 
practical, wisdom or prudence. 



NATURE AND COMPKEIIENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 29 

Pythagoras, we men all make our entrance into this life on our 
departure from another. Some are here occupied in the pur- 
suit of honors, others in the search of riches ; a few there are 
wRo, indifferent to all else, devote themselves to an inquiry into 
the nature of things. These, then, are they whom I call stu- 
dents of wisdom, for such is meant by philosopher. 

The anecdote rests on very slender authority. It is proba- 
ble, I think, that Socrates was the first who adopted, or, at 
least, the first who familiarized, the expression. It was natural 
that he should be anxious to contradistinguish himself from the 
Sophists (ol ooq)ol, ol 6oq)ioral), literally, the wise men ; and no 
term could more appropriately ridicule the arrogance of these 
pretenders, or afford a happier contrast to their haughty desig- 
nation, than that of philosopher (^. e. the lover of wisdom) ; and, 
at the same time, it is certain that the substantives opikoaocfia 
and q)iX6(yoq.og first appear in the writings of the Socratic 
school. It is true, indeed, that the verb (ptloooqjslv is found in 
Herodotus, in the address by Croesus to Solon ; and that, too, in 
a participial form, to designate the latter as a man who had 
travelled abroad for the purpose of acquiring knowledge. It is, 
therefore, not impossible that, before the time of Socrates, 
those who devoted themselves to the pursuit of the higher 
branches of knowledge, were occasionally designated philoso- 
phers : but it is far more probable that Socrates and his school 
first appropriated the term as a distinctive appellation ; and 
that the word philosophy, in consequence of this appropriation, 
came to be employed for the complement of all higher knowl- 
edge, and, more especially, to denote the science conversant about 
the principles or causes of existence. The term philosophy/ , I 
may notice, which was originally assumed in modesty, soon lost 
its Socratic and etymological signification, and returned to the 
meaning of 6oq)ia, or wisdom. Quintilian calls it nomen inso- 
lentissimum ; Seneca, nomen invidiosum ; Epictetus counsels 
his scholars not to call themselves " Philosophers ; " and 'proud 
is one of the most ordinary epithets with which philosophy is 
now associated. 

Philosophy — the thing — its definitions, — So much for the 



30 NATURE AND COMPKEHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 

name signifying ; we proceed now to the thing signified. Were 
I to detail the various definitions of philosophy which philoso- 
phers have promulgated — far more, were I to explain the 
grounds on which the author of each maintains the exclusive 
adequacy of his peculiar definition — I should, in the present 
stage of your progress, only perplex and confuse you. All 
such definitions are (if not positively erroneous), either so 
vague that they afford no precise knowledge of their object ; or 
they are so partial, that they exclude what they ought to com- 
prehend ; or they are of such a nature that they supply no pre- 
liminary information, and are only to be understood (if ever), 
after a knowledge has been acquired of that which they profess 
to explain. It is, indeed, perhaps impossible adequately to 
define philosophy. For what is to be defined comprises what 
cannot be included in a single definition. For philosophy is not 
regarded from a single point of view ; — it is sometimes consid- 
ered as theoretical^ — that is, in relation to man as a thinking 
and cognitive intelligence ; sometimes as practical, — that is, in 
relation to man as a moral agent ; — and sometimes, as compre- 
hending both theory and practice. Again, philosophy may either 
be regarded objectively, that is, as a complement of truths 
known ; or subjectively, — that is, as a habit or quality of the 
mind knowing. In these circumstances, I shall not attempt a 
definition of philosophy, but shall endeavor to accomplish the 
end which every definition proposes, — make you understand, 
as precisely as the unprecise nature of the object-matter per- 
mits, what is meant by philosophy, and what are the sciences it 
properly comprehends within its sphere. 

Definitions in Greek antiquity. — As a matter of history, I 
may here, however, parenthetically mention, that in Greek 
antiquity, there were, in all, six definitions of philosophy which 
obtained celebrity. The first and second define philosophy 
from its object matter, — that which it is about ; the third aud 
fourth, from its end, — that for the sake of which it is ; the 
fifth, from its relative preeminence ; and the sixth, from ils ety- 
mology. 

The first of these definitions of philosophy is, — " the knowl 



NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 31 

edge of things existent as existent." The second is, — " the 
knowledge of things divine and human." These are both from 
the object-matter ; and both were referred to Pythagoras. 

The third and fourth, the two definitions of philosophy from 
its end, are, again, both taken from Plato. Of these, the third 
is, — " philosophy is a meditation of death ; " the fourth, — 
" philosophy is a resembling of the Deity in so far as that is 
competent to man." 

The fifth, that from its preeminence, was borrowed from 
Aristotle, and defined philosophy " the art of arts, and science , 
of sciences." 

Finally, the sixth, that from the etymology, was, hke the first 
and second, carried up to Pythagoras ; — it defined philosophy 
" the love of wisdom." 

To these a seventh and even an eighth were sometimes 
added ; — but the seventh was that by the physicians, who 
defined medicine the philosophy of bodies, and philosophy the 
medicine of souls. This was derided by the philosophers ; as, 
to speak with Homer, being an exchange of brass for gold, and 
of gold for brass, and as defining the more known by the less 
known. The eighth is from an expression of Plato, who, in 
the Thesetetus, calls philosophy " the greatest music," meaning 
thereby the harmony of the rational, irascible, and appetent 
parts of the soul. 

What Philosophy is, — But to return: All philosophy is 
knowledge, but all knowledge is not philosophy. Philosophy is, 
therefore, a kind of knowledge. 

Philosophical and empirical Icnowledge, — What, then, is 
philosophical knowledge, and how is it discriminated from 
knowledge in general ? We are endowed by our Creator with 
certain faculties of observation, which enable us to become 
aware of certain appearances or phaenomena. These faculties 
may be stated as two, — Sense, or External Perception, and 
Self-Consciousness, or Internal Perception ; and these faculties 
severally afford us the knowledge of a different series of phae- 
nomena. Through our senses, we apprehend what exists, or 
what o^.curs, in the external or material world ; by our self- 



32 NATUKE AND COMPREHEISrSIOir 0>' PHILOSOPHY. 

consciousness, we apprehend what is, or what occurs, in the 
internal world, or world of thought. What is the extent, and 
what the certainty, of the knowledge acquired through sense 
and self-consciousness, we do not at present consider. It is 
now sufficient that the simple fact be admitted^ that we do 
actually thus know ; and that fact is so manifest, that it re- 
quires, I presume, at my hands, neither proof nor illustration. 
The information which we thus receive, — that certain phse- 
nomena are, or have been, is called Historical or Empirical 
knowledge. It is called historical, because, in this knowledge, 
we know only the fact, only that the phsenomenon is ; for his- 
tory is properly only the narration of a consecutive series of 
phaenomena in time, or the description of a coexistent series of 
phsenomena in space. Civil history is an example of the one ; 
natural history, of the other. It is called empirical or experien- 
tial^ if we might use that term, because it ib given us by expe- 
rience or observation, and not obtained as the result of infer- 
ence or reasoning. 

By-meaning of the term empirical. — I may notice, by paren- 
thesis, that you must discharge from your minds the by-meaning 
accidentally associated with the word empiric^ or empirical, in 
common Enghsh. This term is, with us, more familiarly used in 
reference to medicine, and from its fortuitous employment in 
that science, in a certain sense, the word empirical has unfortu- 
nately acquired, in our language, a one-sided and an unfavora- 
ble meaning. Of the origin of this meaning many of you may 
not be aware. You are aware, however, that £^7t£i{)ia is the 
Greek term for experience, and tiiTtsiQixog an epithet applied to 
one who uses experience. Now, among the Greek physicians, 
there arose a sect who, professing to employ experience alone, 
to the exclusion of generalization, analogy, and reasoning, de- 
nominated themselves distinctively ol tii7iaiQi>coi — the Empirics. 
The opposite extreme was adopted by another sect, who, reject- 
ing observation, founded their doctrine exclusively on reasoning 
and theory; — and these called themselves ol [Ae\}odixoi — or 
Methodists. A third school, of whom Galen was the head, 
opposed equally to the two extreme sects of the Empirics and 



NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 33 

of the Methodists, and, availing themselves both of experience 
and reasoning, were styled ol doyixanxot — the Dogmatists, or 
rational physicians. A keen controversy arose ; the Empirics 
were defeated ; they gradually died out ; and their doctrine, of 
which nothing is known to us, except through the writings of 
their adversaries, has probably been painted in blacker colors 
than it deserved. Be this, however, as it may, the word was 
first naturalized in EngHsh, at a time when the Galenic works 
were of paramount authority in medicine, as a term of medical 
import — of medical reproach; and the collateral meaning, 
which it had accidentally obtained in that science, was asso- 
ciated with an unfavorable signification, so that an Empiric, in 
common English, has been long a synonyme for a charlatan or 
quack-doctor, and, by a very natural extension, in general, for 
any ignorant pretender in science. In philosophical language, 
the term empirical means simply what belongs to, or is the pro- 
duct of, experience or observation, and, in contrast to another 
term afterwards to be explained, is now technically in general 
use through every other country of Europe. Were there any 
other word to be found of a corresponding signification in Eng- 
lish, it would perhaps, in consequence of the by-meaning 
attached to empirical, be expedient not to employ this latter. 
But there is not. Experiential is not in common use, and 
experimental only designates a certain kind of experience — 
namely, that in which the fact observed has been brought about 
by a certain intentional prearrangement of its coefficients. But 
this by the way. 

Empirical knowledge. — Returning, then, from our digression : 
Historical or empirical knowledge is simply the knowledge that 
something is. Were we to use the expression, the knowledge 
that, it would sound awkward and unusual in our modern lan- 
guages. In Greek, the most philosophical of all tongues, its 
parallel, however, was familiarly employed, more especially in 
the Aristotelic philosophy, in contrast to another knowledge of 
which we are about to speak. It was called the to ort, ri rvojcig 
on eariv. I should notice, that with us, the knowledge that, is 
commonly called the knowledge of the fact. As examples of 



34 NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 

empirical knowledge, take the facts, whether known on our own 
experience or on the testified experience of others, — that a 
stone falls, — that smoke ascends, — that the leaves bud in 
spring and fall in autumn, — that such a book contains such a 
passage, — that such a passage contains such an opinion, — that 
Caesar, that Charlemagne, that Napoleon, existed. [Empirical 
IS also used in contrast with Necessary knowledge; the former 
fiignifying the knowledge simply of what is, the latter of what 
must be.] 

Philosophical knowledge — what — But things do not exist, 
events do not occur, isolated, — apart — by themselves ; they 
exist, they occur, and are by us conceived, only in connection. 
Our observation affords us no example of a phsenomenon which 
is not an effect ; nay, our thought cannot even realize to itself 
the possibility of a phaenomenon without a cause. We do not 
at present inquire into the nature of the connection of effect and 
cause, — either in reality, or in thought. It is sufficient for 
our present purpose to observe that, while, by the constitution 
of our nature, we are unable to conceive any thing to begin to 
be, without referring it to some cause, — still the knowledge of 
its particular cause is not involved in the knowledge of any 
particular effect. By this necessity which we are under, of 
thinking some cause for every phaenomenon ; and by our origi- 
nal ignorance of what particular causes belong to what particular 
effects, — it is rendered impossible for us to acquiesce in the 
mere knowledge of the fact of a phaenomenon : on the contrary, 
we are determined, — we are necessitated, to regard each phae- 
nomenon as only partially known, until we discover the causes 
on which it depends for its existence. For example, we are 
struck with the appearance in the heavens called a rainbow. 
Think we cannot that this phaenomenon has no cause, though 
we may be wholly ignorant of what that cause is. Now, our 
knowledge of the phaenomenon as a mere fact, — as a mere 
isolated event, — does not content us ; we therefore set about 
an inquiry into the cause, — which the constitution of our mind 
compels us to suppose, — and at length, discover that the rain- 
bow is the effect of the refraction of the solar rays by the watery 



NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY. 35 

particles of a cloud. Having ascertained the cause, but not till 
then, we are satisfied that we fully know the effect. 

Now, this knowledge of the cause of a phienomenon is differ- 
ent from, is something more than, the knowledge of that phae- 
nomenon simply as a fact ; and these two cognitions or knowl- 
edges have, accordingly, received different names. The latter, 
we have seen, is called historical or empirical knowledge ; the 
former is called philosophical^ or scientijic, or rational knowl- 
edge. Historical, is the knowledge that a thing is — philo- 
sophical, is the knowledge why or how it is. And as the Greek 
language, with peculiar felicity, expresses historical knowledge 
by the on. — the yvdjaig on eon : so, it well expresses philo- 
sophical knowledge by the dion — the yvcSoig dwn ean, though 
here its relative superiority is not the same. To recapitulate 
what has now been stated : — There are two kinds or degrees 
of knowledge. The first is a knowledge that a thing is — on 

XQW^^ ^'^'^'' ^^^^ ^^^^ > — ^^^ i^ ^^ called the knowledge of the 
fact, historical or empirical knowledge. The second is a knowl- 
edge why or how a thing is, bion XQiJiic^ sen, cur res sit ; — and 
is termed the knowledge of the cause, philosophical, scientific, 
rational knowledge. 

Philosophy implies a search after Jirst causes.-— Vhilo^o^hiddl 
knowledge, in the widest acceptation of the term, and as synony- 
mous with science, is thus the knowledge of effects as dependent 
on their causes. Now, what does this imply? In the first 
place, as every cause to which we can ascend is itself also an 
effect, — it follows that it is the scope, that is, the aim of phi- 
losophy, to trace up the series of effects and causes, until we 
arrive at causes which are not also themselves effects. These 
first causes do not indeed lie within the reach of philosophy, nor 
even within the sphere of our comprehension ; nor, consequently, 
on the actual reaching them does the existence of philosophy 
depend. But as pliilosophy is the knowledge of effects in their 
causes, the tendency of philosophy is ever upwards ; and phi- 
losophy can, in thought, in theory, only be viewed as accom- 
plished, — which in reality it never can be, — when the ultimate 
causes, — the causes on which all other causes depend, — have 
been attained and understood. 



36 NATURE AND COxMPREHENSlON OF PHILOSOPHY. 

But, in the second place, as every effect is only produced by 
the concurrence of at least two causes (and by cause, be it ob- 
served, I mean every thing without which the effect could not he 
realized), and as these concurring or coefficient causes, in fact, 
constitute the effect, it follows, that the lower we descend in the 
series of causes, the more complex will be the product ; and 
that the higher we ascend, it will be the more simple. Let us 
take, for example, a neutral salt. This, as you probably know 
is the product, the combination, of an alkali and an acid. 
Now, considering the salt as an effect, what are the concurrent 
causes, — the co-efficients, — which constitute it what it is ? 
These are, Jirst, the acid, with its affinity to the alkali ; secondly, 
the alkali, with its affinity to the acid ; and thirdly, the trans- 
lating force (perhaps the human hand) which made their affin- 
ities available, by bringing the two bodies within the sphere of 
mutual attraction. Each of these three concurrents must be 
considered as a partial cause ; for, abstract any one, and the 
effect is not produced. Now, these three partial causes are 
each of them again effects ; but effects evidently less complex 
than the effect which they, by their concurrence, constituted. 
But each of these three constituents is an effect ; and therefore 
to be analyzed into its causes ; and these causes again into 
others, until the procedure is checked by our inability to resolve 
the last constituent into simpler elements. But, though thus 
unable to carry our analysis beyond a limited extent, we neither 
conceive, nor are we able to conceive, the constituent in which 
our analysis is arrested, as itself any thing but an effect. We 
therefore carry on the analysis in imagination ; and as each step 
in the procedure carries us from the more complex to the more 
simple, and, consequently, nearer to unity, we at last arrive at 
that unity itself, — at that ultimate cause which, as ultimate, 
cannot again be conceived as an effect.* 

=^ I may notice that an ultimate cause, and a first cause, are the same^ 
but viewed in different relations. What is called the ultimate cause in as- 
cending from effects to causes, — that is, in the regressive order, is called 
the first cause in descending from causes to ^effects, — that is, in the pro- 
gressive order. 



i- 



NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF PPIILOSOPHY. 37 



Philosophy thus, as the knowledge of effects in their causes, 
necessarily tends, not towards a plurality of ultimate or first 
causes, but towards one alone. This first cause, — the Creator, 
— it can indeed never reach, as an object of immediate knowl- 
edge ; but, as the convergence towards unity in the ascending 
series is manifest, in so far as that series is within our view, and 
as it is even impossible for the mind to suppose the convergence 
not continuous and complete, it follows, — unless all analogy be 
rejected, — unless our intelligence be declared a lie, — that we 
must, philosophically, believe in that ultimate or primary unity 
which, in our present existence, we are not destined in itself to 
apprehend. 

Such is philosophical knowledge in its most extensive signifi- 
cation ; and, in this signification, all the sciences, occupied in 
the research of causes, may be viewed as so many branches of 
philosophy. There is, however, one section of these sciences 
which is denominated philosophical by preeminence ; — sci- 
ences which the term philosophy exclusively denotes, when 
employed in propriety and rigor. What these sciences are, 
and why the term philosophy has been specially limited to 
them, I shall now endeavor to make you understand. 

Alan's knowledge relative, — " Man," says Protagoras, " is the 
measure of the universe ; " and, in so far as the universe is an 
object of human knowledge, the paradox is a truth. Whatever 
we know, or endeavor to know, God or the world, — mind or 
matter, — the distant or the near, — we know, and can know, 
only in so far as we possess a faculty of knowing in general ; 
and we can only exercise that faculty under the laws which 
control and limit its operations. However great, and infinite, 
and various, therefore, may be the universe and its contents, — 
these are known to us, not as they exist, but as our mind is 
capable of knowing them. Hence the brocard — " Quicquid 
recipitur, recipitur ad modum recipientis." 

In the first place, therefore, as philosophy is a knowledge, 
and as all knowledge is only possible under the conditions to 
which our faculties are subjected, — the grand, the primary, 
problem of philosophy must be to investigate and determine 

4 



38 NATURE 4.ND COMPREHENSION OF PHILOSOPHY 

these conditions, as the necessary conditions of its own possi* 
bility. 

The study of mind the first ohject of philosophy, — In the 
second place, as philosophy is not merely a knowledge, but a 
knowledge of causes, and as the mind itself is the universal 
and principal concurrent cause in every act of knowledge ; phi- 
losophy is, consequently, bound to make the mind its first and 
paramount object of consideration. The study of mind is thus 
the philosophical study by preeminence. There is no branch 
of philosophy which does not suppose this as its prehminary, 
which does not borrow from this its light. A considerable 
number, indeed, are only the science of mind viewed in particu- 
lar aspects, or considered in certain special applications. Logicj 
for example, or the science of the laws of thought, is only a 
fragment of the general science of mind, and presupposes a 
certain knowledge of the operations which are regulated by 
these laws. Ethics is the science of the laws which govern 
our actions as moral agents ; and a knowledge of these laws is 
only possible through a knowledge of the moral agent himself. 
Political science, in like manner, supposes a knowledge of man 
in his natural constitution, in order to appreciate the modifica- 
tions which he receives, and of which he is susceptible, in social 
and civil life. The Fine Arts have all their foundation in the 
theory of the beautiful ; and this theory is afibrded by that part 
of the philosophy of mind, which is conversant Avith the phae- 
nomena of feehng. Religion, Theology, in fine, is not inde- 
pendent of the same philosophy. For as God only exists for us 
as we have faculties capable of apprehending his existence, and 
of fulfilling his behests, nay, as the phgenomena from which we 
are warranted to infer his being are wholly mental, the exam- 
ination of these faculties and of these phaenomena is, conse- 
quently, the primary condition of every sound theology. In 
short, the science of mind, whether considered in itself, or in 
relation to the other branches of our knowledge, constitutes the 
principal and most important object of philosophy, — consti- 
tutes in propriety, with its suit of dependent sciences, philoso- 
phy itself. 



NATURE AND COMPREHENSION OF rillLOSOriJY. 39 

Misapplication of the term Philosoplty in England, — Tlie 
limitation of the term Philosophy to the sciences of mind, 
when not expressly extended to the other branches of science, 
has been always that generally prevalent ; — yet it must be 
confessed that, in this country, the word is applied to subjects 
with which, on the continent of Europe, it is rarely, if ever, 
associated. With us, the word philosophy, taken by itself, does 
not call up the precise and limited notion which it does to a 
German, a Hollander, a Dane, an Italian, or a Frenchman ; 
and we are obliged to say the philosophy of mind, if we do not 
wish it to be vaguely extended to the sciences conversant with 
the phasnomena of matter. We not only call Physics by the 
name of Natural Philosophy, but every mechanical process has 
with us its philosophy. We have books on the philosophy of 
Manufactures, the philosophy of Agriculture, the philosophy of 
Cookery, etc. In all this we are the ridicule of other nations. 
Socrates, it is said, brought down philosophy from the clouds, — 
the English have degraded her to the kitchen ; and this, our 
prostitution of the term, is, by foreigners, alleged as a sig- 
nificant indication of the low state of the mental sciences in 
Britain. 

From what has been said, you will, without a definition, be 
able to form at least a general notion of what is meant by phi- 
losophy. In its more extensive signification, it is equivalent to 
a ' knowledge of things hy their causes, — and this is, in fact, 
Aristotle's definition ; while, in its stricter meaning, it is con- 
fined to the sciences which constitute, or hold immediately of, the 
science of mind. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY, AKD THE DISPOSITIONS WITH 
WHICH IT OUGHT TO BE STUDIED. 

The causes of philosophy, — Having thus endeavored to 
make you vaguely apprehend what cannot be precisely under- 
stood, — the Nature and Comprehension of Philosophy, — I 
now proceed to another question, — What are the Causes of 
Philosophy ? The causes of philosophy lie in the original ele- 
ments of our constitution. We are created with the faculty of 
knowledge, and, consequently, created with the tendency to 
exert it. Man philosophizes as he lives. He may philosophize 
well or ill, but philosophize he must. Philosophy can, indeed, 
only be assailed through philosophy itself. " If," says Aristotle, 
in a passage preserved to us by Olympiodorus, " we must phi- 
losopliize, we must philosophize ; if we must not philosophize, 
we must philosophize ; — in any case, therefore, we must phi- 
losophize." " Were philosophy," says Clement of Alexandria, 
" an evil, still philosophy is to be studied, in order that it may 
be scientifically contemned." And Averroes, — " Philosophi 
solum est spernere philosophiam." Of the causes of philoso- 
phy some are, therefore, contained in man's very capacity for 
knowledge ; these are essential and necessary. But there are 
others, again, which lie in certain feelings with which he is 
endowed ; these are complementary and assistant. 

Essential Causes of Philosophy, — Of the former class, — 
that is, of the essential causes, — there are in all two: the one 
is, the necessity we feel to connect Causes with Effects ; the 
other, to carry up our knowledge into Unity, These tendencies, 
however, if not identical in their origin, coincide in their result ; 
for, as I have previously explained to you, in ascending from 
(40) 



THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 41 

cause to cause, we necessai'ily (could we carry our analysis to 
its issue), arrive at absolute unity. Indeed, were it not a dis- 
cussion for which you are not as yet prepared, it might be 
shown, that both principles originate in the same condition ; — 
that both emanate, not from any original power, but from the 
same original powerlessness of mind. 

1. The principle of Cause and Effect, — Of the former, — 
namely, the tendency, or rather the necessity, whi-ch we feel to 
connect the objects of our experience with others which afford 
the reasons of their existence, — it is needful to say but little. 
The nature of this tendency is not a matter on which we can at 
present enter ; and the fact of its existence is too notorious to 
require either proof or illustration. It is sufficient to say, or 
rather to repeat what we have already stated, that the mind is 
unable to realize in thought the possibility of any absolute 
commencement ; it cannot conceive that any thing which begins 
to be is any thing more than a new modification of preexistent 
elements ; it is unable to view any individual thing as other than 
a link in the mighty chain of being ; and every isolated object 
is viewed by it only as a fragment which, to be known, must be 
known in connection with the whole of which it constitutes a 
part.* It is thus that we are unable to rest satisfied with a 

^ [The phenomenon is this : — When aware of a new appearance, we are 
unable to conceive that therein has originated any new existence, and are, 
therefore, constrained to think, that what now appears to us under a new 
form, had previously an existence under others, — others conceivable by us 
or not. These others (for they are always plural) are called its cause ; for 
a cause is simply every thing without which the effect would not result, 
and all such concurring, the effect cannot but result. We are utterly un- 
able to construe it in thought as possible, that the complement of existence 
has been either increased or diminished. We cannot conceive, either, on 
the one hand, nothing becoming something, or, on the other, something 
becoming nothing. When God is said to create the universe out of noth- 
ing, we think this, by supposing that he evolves the universe out of nothing 
but himself; and, in like manner, we conceive annihilation, only by con- 
ceiving the Creator to withdraw his creation, by withdrawing his creative 

energy from actuality into power The mind is thus compelled to 

recognize an absolute identity of existence in the effect and in the comf)le- 
ment of its causes, — between the causaium and the causce. We think the 

4=^ 



42 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 

mere historical knowledge of existence ; and that even our 
happiness is interested in discovering causes, hypothetical at 
least, if not real, for the various phagnomena of the existence 
of which our experience informs us. 

" Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere causas." 

2. The love of Unity, — The second tendency of our nature, 
of which philosophy is the result, is the desire of Unity. Oiv 
this, which indeed involves the other, it is necessary to be some 
what more explicit. This tendency is one of the most promi- 
nent characteristics of the human mind. It, in part, originates 
in the imbecility of our faculties. We are lost in the multitude 
of the objects presented to our observation, and it is only by 
assorting them in classes that we can reduce the infinity of 
nature to the finitude of mind. The conscious Ego, the con- 
scious Self, by its nature one, seems also constrained to require 
that unity by which it is distinguished, in every thing which it 
receives, and in every thing which it produces. I regret that I 
can illustrate this only by examples which carlnot, I am aware, 
as yet be fully intelligible to all. We are conscious of a scene 
presented to our senses only by uniting its parts into a perceived 
whole. Perception is thus a unifying act. The Imagination 
cannot represent an object without uniting, in a single combina- 
tion, the various elements of which it is composed. Generali- 
zation is only the apprehension of the one in the many, and 
language little else than a registry of the factitious unities of 
thought. The Judgment cannot affirm or deny one notion of 
another, except by uniting the two in one indivisible act of com- 
parison. Syllogism is simply the union of two judgments in a 
third. Reason, Intellect, ^vovg, in fine, concatenating thoughts 
and objects into system, and tending always upwards from par- 
ticular facts to general laws, from general laws to universal 
principles, is never satisfied in its ascent till it comprehend 

causes to contain all that is contained in tlie effect ; the effect to contain 
nothing but what is contained in the causes. Each is the sum of the other. 

" Omnia mutantur. nLhil interit."] — Discussions. 



THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 43 

(what, however, it can never do) all laws in a single formula, 
and consummate all conditional knowledge in the unity of un- 
conditional existence. Nor is it only in science that the mind 
desiderates the one. We seek it equally in works of art. A 
work of art is only deserving of the name, inasmuch as an idea 
of the work has preceded its execution, and inasmuch as it is 
itself a realization of the ideal model in sensible forms. All 
languages express the mental operations by words which denote 
a reduction of the many to the one. ^^vvsaig, TieQiltjxpig, avvai- 
Ox^ijaig^ ovvemyfcjaig, etc. in Greek ; — in Latin, cogere, (co-agere), 
cogitare^ (co-agitare)^ concipere^ cognoscere^ comprehenderej con- 
scire^ with their derivatives, may serve for examples. 

Testimonies to the love of Unity, — The history of philoso- 
phy is only the history of this tendency ; and philosophers have 
amply testified to its reality. " The mind," says Anaxagoras, 
" only knows when it subdues its objects, when it reduces the 
many to the one." " All knowledge," say the Platonists, " is 
the gathering up into one, and the indivisible apprehension of 
this unity by the knowing mind." Leibnitz and Kant have, in 
like manner, defined knowledge by the representation of multi- 
tude in unity. " The end of philosophy," says Plato, " is the 
intuition of unity ; " and Plotmus, among many others, observes 
that our knowledge is perfect as it is one. The love of unity 
is by Aristotle apphed to solve a multitude of psychological 
phsenomena. St. Augustin even analyzes pain into a feeling 
of the frustration of unity. " Quid est enim aliud dolor, nisi 
quidam sensus divisionis vel corruptionis impatiens ? Unde luce 
clarius apparet, quam sit ilia anima in sui corporis universitate 
avida unitatis et tenax." 

Love of unity a guiding principle in philosophy. — This love 
of unity, this tendency of mind to generalize its knowledge, 
leads us to anticipate in nature a corresponding uniformity ; 
and as this anticipation is found in harmony with experience, 
it not only affords the efficient cause of philosophy, but the 
guiding principle to its discoveries. " Thus, for instance, when 
it is observed that solid bodies are compressible, we are inclined 
to expect that liquids will be found to be so likewise ; we sub- 



44 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 

ject them, consequently, to a series of experiments ; nor do we 
rest satisfied until it be proved that this quality is common to 
both classes of substances. Compressibility is then proclaimed 
a physical law, — a law of nature in general ; and we experi- 
ence a vivid gratification in this recognition of unconditioned 
universality." Another example ; Kant, reflecting on the dif- 
ferences among the planets, or rather among the stars revolving 
round the sun, and having discovered that these difierences be- 
trayed a uniform progress and proportion, — a proportion which 
was no longer to be found between Saturn and the first of the 
comets, — the law of unity and the analogy of nature, led him 
to conjecture that, in the intervening space, there existed a star, 
the discovery of which would vindicate the universahty of the 
law.* This anticipation was verified. Uranus was discovered 
by Herschel, and our dissatisfaction at the anomaly appeased. 
Franklin, in hke manner, surmised that lightning and the electric 
spark were identical ; and when he succeeded in verifying this 
conjecture, our love of unity was gratified. From the moment 
an isolated fact is discovered, we endeavor to refer it to other 
facts which it resembles. Until this be accomplished, we do 
not view it as understood. This is the case, for example, with 
sulphur, which, in a certain degree of temperature melts like 
other bodies, but at a higher degree of .Jieat, instead of evapo- 
rating, again consohdates. When a fact is generalized, our 
discontent is quieted, and we consider the generality itself as tan- 
tamount to an explanation. Why does this apple fall to the 
ground? Because all bodies gravitate towards each other. 
Arrived at this general fact, we inquire no more, although igno- 
rant now as previously of the cause of gravitation ; for gravi- 
tation is nothing more than a name for a general fact, the why 
of which we know not. A mystery, if recognized as universal, 
would no longer appear mysterious. 

^ Kant's conjecture was founded on a supposed progressive increase in 
the eccentricities of the planetary orbits. This progression, however, is 
only true of Venus, the Earth, Jupiter, and Saturn. The eccentricity di- 
minishes again in Uranus, and still more in Neptune. Subsequent discov- 
eries have thus rather weakened than confirmed the theory. — English 
Editors. 



THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 45 

The love of unity also a source of error, — " But this thirst 
of unity," as Garnier remarks, " this tendency of mind to gen- 
erahze its knowledge, and our concomitant belief in -the uni- 
formity of natural phoBnomena, is not only an effective mean of 
discovery, but likewise an abundant source of error. Hardly 
is there a similarity detected between two or three facts', than 
men hasten to extend it to all others ; and if, perchance, the 
similarity has been detected by ourselves, self-love closes our 
eyes to the contradictions which our theory may encounter 
from experience." " I have heard," says Condillac, " of a phi- 
losopher who had the happiness of thinking that he had dis- 
covered a principle which was to explain all the wonderful 
phgenomena of chemistry, and who, in the ardor of his self- 
gratulation, hastened to communicate his discovery to a skilful 
chemist. The chemist had the kindness to Hsten to him, and 
then calmly told him that there was but one unfortunate circum- 
stance for his discovery, — that the chemical facts were precisely 
the converse of what he had supposed them to be. ' Well, 
then,' said the philosopher, ' have the goodness to tell me what 
they are, that I may explain them on my system.' " We are 
naturally disposed to refer every thing we do not know to prin- 
ciples with which we are familiar. As Aristotle observes, the 
early Pythagoreans, who first studied arithmetic, were induced, 
by their scientific predilections, to explain the problem of the 
universe by the properties of number ; and he notices also that 
a certain musical philosopher was, in hke manner, led to suppose 
that the soul was but a kind of harmony. The musician sug- 
gests to my recollection a passage of Dr. Reid. " Mr. Locke," 
says he, " mentions an eminent musician who believed that God 
created the world in six days, and rested the seventh, because 
there are but seven notes in music. I myself," he continues, 
"knew one of that profession who thought there could be only 
three parts in harmony — to wit, bass, tenor, and treble ; be- 
cause there are but three persons in the Trinity." The alche- 
mists would see in. nature only a single metal, clothed with the 
different appearances which we denominate gold, silver, copper, 
iron, mercury, etc., and they confidently explained the mysteries, 



46 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 

not only of nature, but of religion, by salt, sulphur, and mer- 
cury. Some of our modern zoologists recoil from the possibility 
.^f naturae working on two different plans, and rather than 
renounce the unity which delights them, they insist on recogniz- 
ing the wings of insects in the gills of fishes, and the sternum 
of quadrupeds in the antennge of butterflies ; — and all this that 
they may prove that man is only the evolution of a molluscum ! 
Descartes saw in the physical world only matter and motion ; 
and, more recently, it has been maintained that thought itself 
is only a movement of matter. Of all the faculties of the 
mind, Condiliac recognized only one, which transformed itself 
like the Protean metal of the alchemists ; and he maintains 
that our belief in the rising of to-morrow's sun is a sensation. 
It is this tendency, indeed, which has principally determined 
philosophers, as we shall hereafter see, to neglect or violate the 
original duality of consciousness ; in which, as an ultimate fact, 
— a self and not-self, — mind knowing and matter known, — are 
given in counterpoise and mutual opposition; and hence the 
three Unitarian schemes of Materialism, Idealism, and Absolute 
Identity. In fine, Pantheism, or the doctrine which identifies 
mind and matter, — the Creator and the creature, God and the 
universe, — how are we to explain the prevalence of this modi- 
fication of atheism in the most ancient and in the most recent 
times? Simply because it carries our love of unity to its high- 
est fruition. 

Influence of preconceived opinion reducible to love of unity, — 
To this love of unity — - to this desire of reducing the objects of 
our knowledge to harmony and system — a source of truth and 
discovery if subservient to observation, but of error and delusion 
if allowed to dictate to observation what phsenomena are to be 
perceived ; to this principle, I say, we may refer the influence 
which preconceived opinions exercise upon our perceptions and 
our judgments, by inducing us to see and require only what is 
in unison with them. What we wish, says Demosthenes, that 
we believe ; what we expect, says Aristotle, that we find ; — 
truths which have been reechoed by a thousand confessors, and 
confii-med by ten thousand examples. Opinions once adopted 



THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 47 

become part of the intellectual system of their holders. If op- 
posed to prevalent doctrines, self-love defends them as a point 
of honor, exaggerates whatever may confirm, overlooks or ex- 
tenuates whatever may contradict. Again, if accepted as a 
general doctrine, they are too often recognized, in consequence 
of their prevalence, as indisputable truths, and all counter ap- 
pearances peremptorily overruled as manifest illusions. Thus 
it is that men will not see in the pheenomena what alone is to be 
seen ; in their observations they interpolate and they expunge ; 
and this mutilated and adulterated product they call a fact. 
And why ? Because the real phoenomena, if admitted, would 
spoil the pleasant .music of their thoughts, and convert its facti- 
tious harmony into discord. " Quae volunt sapiunt, et nolunt 
sapere quae vera sunt." In consequence of this, many a system, 
professing to be reared exclusively on observation and fact, rests 
in reality mainly upon hypothesis and fiction. A pretended ex- 
perience is, indeed, the screen behind which every illusive doc- 
trine regularly retires. " There are more false facts," says 
Cullen, " current in the world, than false theories ; " — and the 
livery of Lord Bacon has been most ostentatiously paraded by 
many who were no members of his household. Fact, — obser- 
vation, — induction, have always been the watchwords of those 
who have dealt most extensively in fancy. It is now above 
three centuries since Agrippa, in his Vanity of the Sciences^ ob- 
served of Astrology, Physiognomy, and Metoposcopy (the 
Phrenology of those days), that experience was professedly 
their only foundation and their only defence : " Solent omnes 
illas divinationum prodigiosae artes non, nisi experientiae titulo, 
se defendere et se objectionum vinculis extricare." It was on 
this ground, too, that, at a later period, the great Kepler vindi- 
cated the first of these arts. Astrology. " For," said he, " how 
could the principle of a science be false, where experience showed 
that its predictions were uniformly fulfilled." Now, truth was 
with Kepler even as a passion ; and his, too, was one of the 
most powerful intellects that ever cultivated and promoted a 
science. To him, astronomy, indeed, owes perhaps even more 
than to Newton. And yet, even his great mind, preoccupied 



48 THE CAUSES OF PHILOSOPHY. 

with a certain prevalent belief, could observe and judge only in 
conformity with that belief. This tendency to look at realities 
only through the spectacles of an hypothesis,* is perhaps seen 
most conspicuously in the fortunes of medicine. The history 
of that science is, in truth, little else than an incredible narrative 
of the substitution of fictions for facts ; the converts to an hy- 
pothesis (and every, the most contradictory, doctrine has had 
its day), regularly seeing and reporting only in conformity with 
its dictates. The same is also true of the philosophy of mind ; 
and the variations and alternations in this science, which are 
perhaps only surpassed by those in medicine, are to be traced to 
a refusal of the real phaenomenon revealed in consciousness, and 
to the substitution of another, more in unison with preconceived 
opinions of what it ought to be. Nor, in this commutation of 
fact with fiction, should we suspect that there is any mala fides. 
Prejudice, imagination, and passion sufficiently explain the illu- 
sion. " Fingunt simul creduntque." "When," says Kant, " we 
have once heard a bad report of this or that individual, we in- 
continently think that we read the rogue in his countenance ; 
fancy here mingles with observation, which is still further 
vitiated when affection or passion interferes." 

Auxiliary cause of jphilosophy — Wonder, — Such are the 
two intellectual necessities which afford the two principal sources 
of philosophy : — the intellectual necessity of refunding effects 
into their causes ; — and the intellectual necessity of carrying 
up our knowledge into unity or system. But, besides these 
intellectual necessities, which are involved in the very existence 
of our faculties of knowledge, there is another powerful subsidi- 
ary to the same effect, — in a certain affection of our capacities 
of feeling. This feeling, according to circumstances, is denomi- 
nated surprise^ astonishment^ admiration, wonder, and, when 
blended with the intellectual tendencies we have considered, it 
obtains the name of curiosity. This feeling, though it cannot, 
as some have held, be allowed to be the principal, far less the 
only, cause of philosophy, is, however, a powerful auxiliary to 
speculation ; and, though inadequate to account for the existence 
of philosophy absolutely, it adequately explains the preference 



THE CAUSES OF FHILOSOPDY. 49 

with which certain parts of j)hilosophy have been cultivated, 
and the order in which philosophy in general has been devel- 
oped. We may err both in exaggerating, and in extenuating, 
its influence. Wonder ha>^ been conieni[)tuously called the 
daughter of ignorance ; true ! but wonder, we should add, is the 
mother of knowledge. Among others, Plato, Aiistotle, Plu- 
tarch, and Bacon liave all concurred in testifying to the influ- 
ence of this principle. " Admiration," says the Platonic Socrates 
in the Thecetetus, — " admiration is a highly philosophical aifec- 
tion ; indeed, there is no other principle of philosophy but this." 
— " That philosophy," says Aristotle, " was not originally 
studied for any practical end, is manifest from those who first 
began to philosophize. It was, in fact, wonder, which then, as 
now, determined men to philosophical researches. Among the 
phsenomena presented to them, their admiration was first di- 
rected to those more proximate and more on a level with their 
powers, and then, rising by degrees, they came at length to de- 
mand an explanation of the higher phsenomena, — as the dif- 
ferent states of the moon, sun, and stars, — and the origin of the 
universe. Now, to doubt and to be astonished is to recognize 
our ignorance. Hence it is, that the lover of wisdom is, in a 
certain sort, a lover of mythi, (cpiXoiivd^og TZoog) ; for the subject 
of mythi is the astonishing and marvellous. If, then, men phi- 
losophize to escape ignorance, it is clear that they pursue knowl- 
edge on its own account, and not for the sake of any foreign 
utility. This is proved by the fact ; for it was only after all 
that pertained to the wants, welfare, and conveniences of life 
had been discovered, that men commenced their philosophical 
researches. It is, therefore, manifest that we do not study 
philosophy for the sake of any thing ulterior; and, as we 
call him a free man who belongs to himself and not to another, 
so philosophy is, of all sciences, the only free or liberal study, 
for it alone is unto itself an end." — " It is the business 
of philosophy," says Plutarch, "to investigate,, to admire, and 
to doubt." 

Wonder explains the order in which objects are studied, — 
We have already remarked, that the principle of wonder 

5 



50 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 

affords an explanation of the order in which the different 
objects of philosophy engaged the attention of mankind. The 
aim of all philosophy is the discovery of principles, that is, 
of higher causes ; but, in the procedure to this end, men first 
endeavored to explain those phaenomena which attracted their 
sj.ttention by arousing their wonder. The child is wholly ab- 
sorbed in the observation of the world without; the world 
within first engages the contemplation of the man. As it is 
with the individual, so was it with the species. Philosophy, 
before attempting the problem of inteUigence, endeavored to 
resolve the problem of nature. The spectacle of the external 
universe was too imposing not first to soKcit curiosity, and to 
direct upon itself the prelusive efforts of philosophy. Thales 
and Pythagoras, in whom philosophy finds its earKest represent- 
atives, endeavored to explain the organization of the universe, 
and to substitute a scientific for a religious cosmogony. For a 
season, their successors toiled in the same course ; and it was 
only after philosophy had tried, and tired, its forces on external 
nature, that the human mind recoiled upon itself, and sought in 
the study of its own nature the object and end of philosophy. 
The mind now became to itself its point of departure, and its 
principal object ; and its progress, if less ambitious, was more 
secure. Socrates was he who first decided this new destination 
of philosophy. From his epoch, man sought in himself the so- 
lution of the great problem of existence; and the history of 
philosophy was henceforward only a development, more or less 
successful, more or less complete, of the inscription on the Del- 
phic temple — Fvcod^i aeavrov — Know thyself. 

Having informed you, — 1^, What Philosophy is, and 2*^, 
What are its Causes, I would now say a few words on the Dis- 
positions with which Philosophy ought to be studied ; for, with- 
out certain practical conditions, a speculative knowledge of the 
most perfect Method of procedure (our next following ques- 
tion), remains barren and unapplied. 

" To attain to a knowledge of ourselves," says Socrates, " we 
must banish prejudice, passion, and sloth ; " and no one who 
neglects this precept, can hope to make any progress in the phi- 



THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 51 

losopliy of the human mind, which is only another term for the 
knowledge of ourselves. 

First condition^ — renunciation of ^prejudice, — In the first 
place, then, all prejudices^ — that is, all opinions formed on 
irrational grounds, — ought to be removed. A preliminary 
doubt is thus the fundamental condition of philosophy ; and the 
necessity of such a doubt is no less apparent than is its diffi- 
culty. We do not approach the study of philosophy ignorant, 
but perverted. " There is no one," says Gatien-Arnoult, " who 
has not grown up under a load of beliefs — beliefs which he 
owes to the accidents of country and family, to the books he has 
read, to the society he has frequented, to the education he has 
received, and, in general, to the circumstances which have con- 
curred in the formation of his intellectual and moral habits. 
These beliefs may be true, or they may be false, or, what ia 
more probable, they may be a medley of truths and errors. 
It is, however, under their influence that he studies, and 
through them, as through a prism, that he views and judges the 
objects of knowledge. Every thing is therefore seen by him in 
false colors, and in distorted relations. And this is the reason 
why philosophy, as the science of truth, requires a renunciation 
of prejudices {prce-judicia^ opiniones prce-Judicatce), — that is, 
conclusions formed without a previous examination of their 
grounds." 

In this, Christianity and Philosophy are at one, — In this, if I 
may without irreverence compare things human with things 
divine, Christianity and Philosophy coincide, — for truth is 
equally the end of both. What is the primary condition which 
our Saviour requires of his disciples ? That they throw off 
their old prejudices, and come with hearts willing to receive 
knowledge, and understandings open to conviction. " Unless," 
He says, " ye become as little children, ye shall not enter the 
kingdom of heaven." Such is true rehgion ; such also is true 
philosophy. Philosophy requires an emancipation from the 
yoke of foreign authority, a renunciation of all bhnd adhesion 
to the opinions of our age and country, and a purification of the 
intellect from all assumptive beUefs. Unless we can cast off 



52 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 

the prejudices of the man, and become as children, docile and 
unperverted, we need never hope to enter the temple of philos- 
ophy. It is the neglect of this primary condition, which has 
mainly occasioned men to wander from the miity of truth, and 
caused the endless variety of rehgious and philosophical sects. 
Men would not submit to approach the word of God in order to 
receive from that alone their doctrine and their faith ; but they 
came, in general, with preconceived opinions, and, accordingly, 
each found in revelation only what he was predetermined to 
find. So, in like manner, is it in philosophy. Consciousness is 
to the philosopher what the Bible is to the theologian. Both are 
revelations of the truth ; and both afford the truth to those 
who are content to receive it, as it ought to be received, with 
reverence and submission. But as it has, too frequently, fared 
with the one revelation, so has it with the other. Men turned, 
indeed, to consciousness, and professed to regard its authority 
as paramount ; but they were not content humbly to accept the 
facts which consciousness revealed, and to estabhsh these with- 
out retrenchment or distortion, as the only principles of their 
philosophy ; on the contrary, they came with opinions already 
formed, with systems already constructed ; and while they 
eagerly appealed to consciousness when its data supported their 
conclusions, they made no scruple to overlook, or to misinter- 
pret, its facts, when these were not in harmony with their spec- 
ulations. Thus, religion and philosophy, as they both terminate 
in the same end, so they both depart from the same fundamen- 
tal condition. 

But the influence of early prejudice is the more dangerous, 
inasmuch as this influence is unobtrusive. Few of us are, per- 
haps, fully aware of how little we owe to ourselves, — how 
much to the influence of others. 

Source of the power of custom. — Man is by nature a social 
animal. " He is more pohtical," says Aristotle, " than any bee 
or ant." But the existence of society, from a family to a state, 
supposes a certain harmony of sentiment among its members ; 
and nature has, accordingly, wisely implanted in us a tendency 
to assimilate, in opinions and habits of thought, to those with 



THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 53 

whom we live and act. There is thus, in every society, great 
or small, a certain gravitation of opinions towards a common 
centre. As in our natural body, every part has a necessary 
sympathy with every other, and all together form, by their har- 
monious conspiration, a healthy whole ; so, in the social body, 
there is always a strong predisposition, in each of its members, 
to act and think in unison with the rest. This universal sym- 
pathy, or fellow-feeling, of our social nature, is the principle of 
the different spirit dominant in different ages, countries, ranks, 
sexes, and periods of life. It is the cause why fashions, why 
political and religious enthusiasm, why moral example, either 
for good or evil, spread so rapidly, and exert so powerful an 
influence. As men are naturally prone to imitate others, they 
consequently regard, as important or insignificant, as honorable 
or disgraceful, as true or false, as good or bad, what those 
around them consider in the same light. They love and hate 
what they see others desire and eschew. This is not to be re- 
gretted ; it is natural, and, consequently, it is right. Lideed, 
were it otherwise, society could not subsist, for nothing can be 
more apparent than that mankind in general, destined as they 
are to occupations incompatible with intellectual cultivation, are 
wholly incapable of forming opinions for themselves on many 
of the most important objects of human consideration. If such, 
however, be the intentions of nature with respect to the unen- 
lightened classes, it is manifest that a heavier obhgation is 
thereby laid on those who enjoy the advantages of intellectual 
cultivation, to examine with diligence and impartiality the foun- 
dations of those opinions which have any connection with the 
welfare of mankind. If the multitude must be led, it is of con- 
sequence that it be led by enlightened conductors. That the 
great multitude of mankind are, by natural disposition, only 
what others are, is a fact at all times so obtrusive, that it could 
not escape observation from the moment a reflective eye was 
first turned upon man. " The whole conduct of Cambyses," 
says Herodotus, the father of history, " towards the Egyptian 
gods, sanctuaries, and priests, convinces me that this king was 
in the highest degree insane ; for otherwise, he would not have 

5* 



54 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPEK TO PHILOSOPHY. 

insulted the worship and holy things of the Egyptians. If any 
one should accord to all men the permission to make free choice 
of the best among all customs, undoubtedly each would choose 
his own. That this would certainly happen, can be shown hj 
many examples, and, among others, by the following. The 
King Darius once asked the Greeks who were resident in his 
court, at what price they could be induced to devour their dead 
parents. The Greeks answered, that to this no price could 
bribe them. Thereupon the king asked some Indians, who were 
in the habit of eating their dead parents, what they would take, 
not to eat, but to burn them ; and the Indians answered even as 
the Greeks had done." Herodotus concludes this narrative 
with the observation, that " Pindar had justly entitled Cus- 
tom — the Queen of the World." 

Sceptical inference from the influence of custom, — The 
ancient sceptics, from the conformity of men, in every country, 
in their habits of thinking, feeling, and acting, and from the 
diversity of different nations in these habits, inferred that noth- 
ing was by nature beautiful or deformed, true or false, good or 
bad, but that these distinctions originated solely in custom. The 
modern scepticism of Montaigne terminates in the same asser- 
tion ; and the sublime misanthropy of Pascal has almost carried 
him to a similar exaggeration. " In the just and the unjust," 
says he, " we find hardly any thing which does not change its 
character in changing its climate. Three degrees of an eleva- 
tion of the pole reverses the whole of jurisprudence. A 
meridian is decisive of truth, and a few years of possession. 
Fundamental laws change. Right has its epochs. A pleasant 
justice, which a river or a mountain limits ! Truth, on this side 
the Pyrenees, error on the other ! " This doctrine is exag- 
gerated, but it has a foundation in truth ; and the most zealous 
champions of the immutability of moral distinctions are unani- 
mous in acknowledging the powerful influence which the opin- 
ions, tastes, manners, affections, and actions of the society in 
which we live, exert upon all and each of its members. 

Influence of custom and example in revolutionary times, — 
Nor is this influence of man on man less unambiguous in times 



THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 55 

of social tranquillity, than in crises of social convulsion. Id 
seasons of political and religious revolution, there arises a 
strufrscle between the resistino; force of ancient habits and the 
contagious sympathy of new modes of feeling and thought. 
In one portion of society, the inveterate influence of custom 
prevails over the contagion of example ; in others, the conta- 
gion of example prevails over the conservative force of an- 
tiquity and habit. In either case, however, we think and act 
always in sympathy with others. " We remain,'' says an illus- 
trious philosopher, " submissive so long as the world continues 
to set the example. As we follow the herd in forming our con- 
ceptions of what is respectable, so we are ready to follow the 
multitude also, when such conceptions come to be questioned or 
rejected ; and are no less vehement reformers, when the cur- 
rent of opinion has turned against former establishments, than 
we were zealous abettors, while that current continued to set in 
a different direction." 

Relation of the individual to social crises. — Thus it is, that 
no revolution in public opinion is the work of an individual, of 
a single cause, or of a day. When the crisis has arrived, the 
catastrophe must ensue ; but the agents through whom it is ap- 
parently accomplished, though they may accelerate, cannot 
originate its occurrence. Who believes, that, but for Luther 
or Zwingli, the Reformation would not have been ? Their indi- 
vidual, their personal energy and zeal, perhaps, hastened by a 
year or two the event ; but had the public mind not been 
already ripe for their revolt, the fate of Luther and Zwingli, in 
the sixteenth century, would have been that of Huss and Je- 
rome of Prague, in the fifteenth. Woe to the revolutionist who 
is not himself a creature of the revolution ! If he anticipat(5, 
he is lost ; for it requires, what no individual can supply, a long 
and powerful counter-sympathy in a nation to untwine the 
ties of custom which bind a people to the established and the 
old. 

Testimonies to the power of received opinion, — I should 
have no end, were I to quote to you all that philosophers have 
said of the prevalence and evil influence of prejudice and opin- 



56 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 



ion. " Opinion," says the great Pascal, " disposes of all things. 
It constitutes beauty, justice, happiness ; and those are the all 
in all of the world." 

"Almost every opinion we have," says the pious Charon, 
" we have but by authority ; we believe, judge, act, live, and 
die on trust, as common custom teaches us ; and rightly ! for we 
are too weak to decide and choose of ourselves. But the wise 
do not act thus." " Every opinion," says Montaigne, " is 
strong enough to have had its martyrs ; " and Sir W. Raleigh — 
" It is opinion, not truth, that travelleth the world without pass- 
port." 

Doubt the first step to philosophy. — Such being the recog- 
nized universality and evil effect of prejudice, philosophers 
have, consequently, been unanimous in making doubt the first 
step towards philosophy. Aristotle has a fine chapter in his 
Metaphysics on the utihty of doubt, and on the things which 
we ought first to doubt of; and he concludes by establishing 
that the success of philosophy depends on the art of doubting 
well. This is even enjoined on us by the Apostle. For in 
saying " Prove " (which may be more correctly translated test) 
— " Test all things," he implicitly commands us to doubt all 
things. " He," says Bacon, " who would become a philosopher, 
must commence by repudiating belief ; " and he concludes one 
of the most remarkable passages of his writings with the obser- 
vation, that, " were there a single man to be found with a firm- 
ness sufficient to efface from his mind the theories and notions 
vulgarly received, and to apply his intellect free and without 
prevention, the best hopes might be entertained of his success." 
" To philosophize," says Descartes, " seriously, and to good 
effect, it is necessary for a man to renounce all prejudices ; in 
other words, to apply the greatest care to doubt of all his pre- 
vious opinions, so long as these have not been subjected to a 
new examination, and been recognized as true." But it is 
needless to multiply authorities in support of so obvious a truth. 
The ancient philosophers refused to admit slaves to their in- 
struction. Prejudice makes men slaves ; it disqualifies them 
for the pursuit of truth ; and their emancipation from prejudice 



THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 57 

is what philosophy first inculcates on, what it first requires of, 
its disciples. 

Philosophical douht distinguished^ from scepticism. — Let us, 
[lowever, beware that we act not the part of revolted slaves ; 
that, in asserting our liberty, we do not run into license. Phil- 
osophical doubt is not an end, but a mean. We doubt in order 
that we may believe ; we begin, that we may not end with, 
doubt. We doubt once that we may believe always ; we re- 
nounce authority that we may follow reason ; we surrender 
opinion that we may obtain knowledge. We must be protes- 
tants, not infidels, in philosophy. " There is a great difierence," 
says Malebranche, " between doubting and doubting. — We may 
doubt through passion and brutality; through blindness and 
malice, and finally through fancy, and from the very wish to 
doubt ; but we doubt also from prudence and through distrust, 
from wisdom and through penetration of mind. The former 
doubt is a doubt of darkness, which never issues to the light, 
but leads us always further from it ; the latter is a doubt which 
is born of the light, and which aids in a certain sort, to produce 
light in its turn." Indeed, were the effect of philosophy the 
establishment of doubt, the remedy would be worse than the 
disease. Doubt, as a permanent state of mind, would be, in 
fact little better than an intellectual death. The mind lives as 
it believes, — it hves in the afiirmation of itself, of nature, and 
of God ; a doubt upon any one of these would be a diminution 
of its life ; — a doubt upon the three, were it possible, would be 
tantamount to a mental annihilation. 

It is well observed, by Mr. Stewart, " that it is. not merely in 
order to free the mind from the influence of error, that it is 
useful to examine the foundation of established opinions. It is 
such an examination alone, that, in an inquisitive age like the 
present, can secure a philosopher from the danger of unlimited 
scepticism. To this extreme, indeed, the complexion of the 
times is more likely to give him a tendency, than to implicit 
credulity. In the former ages of ignorance and superstition, 
the intimate association which had been formed in the prevail- 
ing systems of education, between truth and error had given to 



58 THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 

the latter an ascendant over the minds of men, which it could 
never have acquired if diVested of such an aUiance. The case 
has, of late years, been most remarkably reversed : the common 
sense of mankind, in consequence of the growth of a more lib- 
eral spirit of inquiry, has revolted against many of those ab- 
surdities which had so long held human reason in captivity ; 
and it was, perhaps, more than could have been reasonably 
expected, that, in the first moments of their emancipation, 
philosophers should have stopped short at the precise boundary 
which cooler reflection and more moderate views would have 
prescribed. The fact is, that they have passed far beyond it ; 
and that, in their zeal to destroy prejudices, they have attempted 
to tear up by the roots many of the best and happiest and. most 

essential principles of our nature In the midst of thefse 

contrary impulses of fashionable and vulgar prejudices, he alone 
evinces the superiority and the strength of his mind, who is able 
to disentangle truth from error ; and to oppose the clear conclu- 
sions of his own unbiased faculties to the united clamors of 
superstition and of false philosophy. Such are the men whom 
nature marks out to be the hghts of the world ; to &:s. the wa- 
vering opinions of the multitude, and to impress their own char- 
acters on that of their age." In a word, philosophy is, as 
Aristotle has justly expressed, not the art of doubting, but the 
art of doubting well. 

Subjugation of the passions. — In the second place, in obedi- 
ence to the precept of Socrates, the passions, under which we 
shall include sloth, ought to be subjugated. These ruffle the 
tranquillity of the mind, and consequently deprive it of the power 
of carefully considering all that the solution of a question re- 
quires should be examined. A man under the agitation of any 
lively emotion, is hardly aware of aught but what has immediate 
relation to the passion which agitates and engrosses him. Among 
the affections which influence the will, and induce it to adhere 
to scepticism oi error, there is none more dangerous than sloth. 
The greater proportion of mankind are inclined to spare them- 
selves the trouble of a long and laborious inquiry ; or they 
fancy that a superficial examination is enough ; and the shghtest 



THE DISPOSITIONS PROPER TO PHILOSOPHY. 59 

agreement between a few objects, in a few petty points, they at 
once assume as evincing the correspondence of the whole 
throughout. Others apply themselves exclusively to the mat- 
ters which it is absolutely necessary for them to know, and take 
no account of any opinion but that which they have stumbled 
on, — for no other reason than that they have embraced it, and 
are unwilling to recommence the labor of learning. They re- 
ceive their opinion on the authority of those who have had 
suggested to them their own ; and they are always facile schol- 
ars, for the shghtest probability is, for them, all the evidence 
that they require. 

Pride is a powerful impediment to a progress in knowledge. 
Under the influence of this passion, men seek honor, but not 
truth. They do not cultivate what is most valuable in reahty, 
but what is most valuable in opinion. They disdain, perhaps, 
what can be easily accomplished, and apply themselves to the 
obscure and recondite ; but as the vulgar and easy is the foun- 
dation on which the rare and arduous is built, they fail even in 
attaining the object of their ambition, and remain with only a 
farrago of confused and ill-assorted notions. In all its phases, 
self-love is an enemy to philosophical progress ; and the history 
of philosophy is filled with the illusions of which it has been the 
source. On the one side, it has led men to close their eyes 
against the most evident truths which were not in harmony with 
their adopted opinions. It is said that there was not a physician 
in Europe, above the age of forty, who would admit Harvey's 
discovery of the circulation of the blood. On the other hand, it 
is finely observed by Bacon, that " the eye of human intellect is 
not dry, but receives a suffusion from the will and from the 
affections, so that it may almost be said to engender any science 
it pleases. For what a man wishes to be true, that he prefers 
believing." And, in another place, " if the human intellect hath 
once taken a liking to any doctrine, either because received and 
credited, or because otherwise pleasing, — it draws every thing 
else into harmony with that doctrine, and to its support ; and 
albeit there may be found a more powerful array of contra- 
dictory instances, these, however, it either does not observe, oi 
it contenms, or by distinction extenuates and rejects." 



CHAPTER IT. 

THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 

There is only one possible method in philosophy ; and what 
have been called the different methods of different philosophers, 
vary from each other only as more or less perfect applications 
of this one Method to the objects of knowledge. 

What IS Method f — All method is a rational progress, — a 
progress towards an end ; and the method of philosophy is the 
procedure conducive to the end which philosophy proposes. 
The ends, — the final causes of philosophy, — as we have seen, 
are two ; first, the discovery of efficient causes ; secondly, 
the generalization of our knowledge into unity ; — two ends, 
however, which fall together into one, inasmuch as the higher 
we proceed in the discovery of causes, we necessarily approxi- 
mate more and more to unity. The detection of the one in the 
many might, therefore, be laid down as the end to which philos- 
ophy, though it can never reach it, tends continually to approx- 
imate. But, considering philosophy in relation to both these 
ends, I shall endeavor to show you that it has only one possible 
method. 

£ut one method in relation to the first end of Philosophy, — 
Considering philosophy, in the first place, in relation to its first 
end, — the discovery of causes, — we have seen that causes 
(taking that term as synonymous for all without which the 
effect would not be) are only the coefficients of the effect ; an 
effect being nothing more than the sum or complement of all the 
partial causes, the concurrence of which constitute its existence. 
This being the case, — and as it is only by experience that we 
discover what particular causes must conspire in order to pro- 
(60) 



THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. Gl 

duce such or such an effect, --— it follows, that nothing can be- 
come known to us as a cause except in and through its effect ; 
in other words, that we can only attain to the knowledge of a 
cause by extracting it out of its effect. To take the example, 
we formerly employed, of a neutral salt. This, as I observed, 
was made up by the conjunction of three proximate causes, — 
•namely, an acid, — an alkali, — and the force which brought the 
alkali and the acid into the requisite approximation. This last, 
as a transitory condition, and not always the same, we shall 
throw out of account. Now, though we might know the acid 
and the alkali in themselves as distinct phaenomena, we could 
never know them as the concurrent causes of the salt, unless we 
had known the salt as their effect. And though, in this ex- 
ample, it happens that we are able to compose the effect by the 
union of its causes, and to decompose it by their separa- 
tion, — this is only an accidental circumstance ; for the far 
greater number of the objects presented to our observation can 
only be decomposed, but not actually recomposed ; and in those 
which can be recomposed, this possibility is itself only the result 
of a knowledge of the causes previously obtained by an original 
decomposition of the effect. " 

This method is iy Analysis and Synthesis, — In so far, there- 
fore, as philosophy is the research of causes, the one necessary 
condition of its possibility is the decomposition of effects into 
their constituted causes. This is the fundamental procedure of 
philosophy, and is called by a Greek term Analysis. But 
though analysis be the fundamental procedure, it is still only a 
mean towards an end. We analyze only that we may compre- 
hend ; and we comprehend only, inasmuch as we are able to 
reconstruct, in thought, the complex effects which we have 
analyzed into their elements. This mental reconstruction is, 
therefore, the final, the consummative procedure of philosophy, 
and it is familiarly known by the Greek term Synthesis. Analy- 
sis and synthesis, though commonly treated as two different 
methods, are, if properly understood, only the two necessary 
parts of the same method. Each is the relative and the correl- 
ative of the other. Analysis, without a subsequent synthesis, is 

6 



62 THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 

incomplete ; it is a mean cut off from its end. Synthesis, with- 
out a previous analysis, is baseless ; for synthesis receives from 
analysis the elements which it recomposes. And, as synthesis 
supposes analysis as the prerequisite of its possibility, — so it is 
also dependent on analysis for the qualities of its existence. 
The value of every synthesis depends upon the value of the 
foregoing analysis* If the precedent analysis afford false ele- 
ments, the subsequent synthesis of these elements will i ecessa- 
rily afford a false result. If the elements furnished by analysis 
are assumed, and not really discovered, — in other words, if 
they be hypothetical, the synthesis of these hypothetical ele- 
ments will constitute only a conjectural theory. The legiti- 
macy of every synthesis is thus necessarily dependent on the 
legitimacy of the analysis which it presupposes, and on which 
it founds. 

These two relative procedures are thus equally necessary to 
each other. On the one hand, analysis without synthesis 
affords only, a commenced, only an incomplete, knowledge. On 
the other, synthesis without analysis is a false knowledge, — 
that is, no knowledge at all. Both, therefore, are absolutely 
necessary to philosophy, and both are, in philosophy, as much 
parts of the same method as, in the animaj body, inspiration 
and expiration are of the same vital function. But though 
these operations are each requisite to the other, yet were we to 
distinguish and compare what ought only to be considered as 
conjoined, it is to analysis that the preference must be accorded. 
An analysis is always valuable ; for though now without a syn- 
thesis, this synthesis may at any time be added ; whereas a 
synthesis without a previous analysis is radically and ah initio 
DuU. 

So far, therefore, as regards the Jirst end of philosophy, or 
the discovery of causes, it appears that there is only one possi- 
ble method, — that method of which analysis is the foundation, 
synthesis the completion. In the second place, considering phi- 
losophy in relation to its second end, the carrying up our 
knowledge into unity, — the same is equally apparent. 

Only one method in relation to the second end of Philoso- 



THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 63 

phy. — Every, thing presented to our observation, whether 
external or internal, whether through sense or self-conseious- 
ness, is presented in complexity. Through sense, the objects 
crowd upon the mind in multitudes, and each separate indi- 
vidual of these multitudes is itself a congeries of many various 
qualities. The same is the case with the phsenomena of self- 
consciousness. Every modification of mind is a complex state ; 
and the different elements of each state manifest themselves 
only in and through each other. Thus, nothing but multiplicity 
is ever presented to our observation ; and yet our faculties are 
so limited that they are able to comprehend at once only the 
very simplest conjunctions. There seems, therefore, a singular 
disproportion between our powers of knowledge and the objects 
to be known. How is the equilibrium to be restored ? This is 
the great problem proposed by nature, and which analysis and 
synthesis, in combination, enable us to solve. For example, I 
perceive a tree, among other objects of an extensive landscape, 
and I wish to obtain a full and distinct conception of that tree. 
What ought I to do ? Divide et impera : I must attend to it by 
itself, that is, to the exclusion of the other constituents of the 
scene before me. I thus analyze that scene ; I separate a petty 
portion of it from the rest, in order to consider that portion apart. 
But this is not enough, the tree itself is not a unity, but, on the 
contrary, a complex assemblage of elements, far beyond what 
my powers can master at once. I must carry my analysis still 
further. Accordingly, I consider successively its height, its 
breadth, its shape ; I then proceed to its trunk, rise from that to 
its branches, and follow out its different ramifications ; I now 
fix my attention on the leaves, and severally examine their 
form, color, etc. It is only after having thus, by analysis, de- 
tached all these parts, in order to deal with them one by one, 
that I am able, by reversing the process, fully to comprehend 
them again in a series of synthetic acts. By synthesis, rising 
from the ultimate analysis, step by step, I view the parts in 
relation to each other, and, finally, to the whole of which they 
are thf -.onstituents ; I reconstruct them ; and it is only through 
these tw counter-processes of analysis and synthesis, that I am 



64 THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY, 

able to convert the confused perception of the tree, which I 
obtained at first sight, into a clear, and distinct, and comprehen- 
sive knowledge. 

How a multitude is reduced to unity, — But if analysis and 
synthesis be required to afford us a perfect knowledge even of one 
individual object of sense, still more are they required to enable 
the mind to reduce an indefinite multitude of objects, — the infin- 
itude, we may say, of nature, — to the limits of its own finite com- 
prehension. To accomplish this, it is requisite to extract the one 
out of the many, and thus to recall multitude to unity, — confu- 
sion to order. And how is this performed ? The one in the 
many being that in which a plurality of objects agree, — or that in 
which they may be considered as the same ; and the agreement 
of objects in any common quality being discoverable only by 
an observation and comparison of the objects themseh^es, it fol- 
lows that a knowledge of the one can only be evolved out of a 
foregoing knovfledge of the many. But this evolution can only 
be accomplished by an analysis and a synthesis. By analysis, 
from the infinity of objects presented to our observation, we 
select some. These we consider apart, and, further, only in 
certain points of view, — and we compare these objects with 
others also considered in the same points of view. So far the 
procedure is analytic. Having discovered, however, by this 
observation and comparison, that certain objects agree in cer- 
tain respects, we generalize the quaHties in which they coincide, 
— that is, from a certain number of individual instances we 
infer a general law ; we perform what is called an act of In- 
duction. 

What is Induction ? — This induction is erroneously viewed 
as analytic ; it is purely a synthetic process. For example, 
from our experience, — and all experience, be it that of the 
individual or of mankind, is only finite, — from our limited ex- 
perience, I say, that bodies, as observed by us, attract each 
other, we infer by induction the unlimited conclusion that all 
bodies gravitate towards each other. Now, here the consequent 
contains much more than, was contained in the antecedent. 
Experience, the antecedent, only says, and only can say, this, 



THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 05 

that, and the other body gravitate (that is, some bodies gravi- 
tate) ; the consequent educed from that antecedent, says, — all 
bodies gravitate. The antecedent is limited, — the consequent 
unhmited. Something, therefore, has been added to the antecedent 
in order to legitimate the inference, if we are not to hold the 
consequent itself as absurd ; for, as you will hereafter learn, no 
conclusion must contain more than was contained in the prem- 
ises from which it is drawn. What then is the something^ If 
we consider the inductive process, this will be at once apparent. 

The affirmation, this, that, and the other body gravitate, is 
connected with the affirmation, all bodies gravitate, only by in 
serting between the two a third affirmation, by which the two 
other affirmations are connected into reason and consequent, — 
that is, into a logical cause and effect. What that is I shall 
explain. All scientific induction is founded on the presumption 
that nature is uniform in her operations. Of the ground and 
origin of this presumption, I am not now to speak. I shall only 
say, that, as it is a principle which we suppose in all our induc- 
tions, it cannot be itself a product of induction. It is, therefore, 
interpolated in the inductive reasoning by the mind itself. In 
our example the reasoning will, accordingly, run as follows : — 

This, that, and the other body (some bodies) are observed to 
gravitate ; 

But (as nature is uniform in her operations) this, that, and 
the other body (som6 bodies) represent all bodies ; 

Therefore,* all bodies gravitate. 

Now, in this and other examples of induction, it is the mind 
which binds up the separate substances observed and collected 
into a whole, and converts what is only the observation of many 
particulars into a universal law. This procedure is manifestly 
synthetic. 

Now, you will remark that analysis and synthesis are here 
absolutely dependent on each other. The previous observation 
and comparison, — the analytic foundation, — are only instituted 
for the sake of the subsequent induction, — the synthetic con- 
summation. What boots it to observe and to compare, if th€ 
uniformities we discover among objects are never generahzed 

6* 



6G THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 

into laws ? We have obtained an historical, but not a philo- 
sophical knowledge. Here, therefore, analysis without synthesis 
is incomplete. On the other hand, an induction which does not 
proceed upon a competent enumeration of particulars, is either 
doubtful, improbable, or null ; for all synthesis is dependent on 
a foregone analysis for whatever degree of certainty it may 
pretend to. Thus, considering philosophy in relation to its 
second end, unity or system, it is manifest that the method by 
which it accomplishes that end, is a method involving both an 
analytic and a synthetic process. 

Now, as philosophy has only one possible method, so the his- 
tory of philosophy only manifests the conditions of this one 
method, more or less accurately fulfilled. There are aberra- 
tions in the method, — no aberrations from it. 

Earliest prohlem of philosophy, — " Philosophy," says Ge- 
ruzez, ^ commenced with the first act of reflection on the objects 
of sense or self-consciousness, for the purpose of explaining 
them. And with that first act of reflection, the method of phi- 
losophy began, in its application of an analysis, and in its appli- 
cation of a synthesis, to its object. The first philosophers 
naturally endeavored to explain the enigma of external nature. 
The magnificent spectacle of the material universe, and the 
marvellous demonstrations of power and wisdom which it every- 
where exhibited, were the objects which called forth the earliest 
eflbrts of speculation. Philosophy was thiis, at its commence- 
ment, physical, not psychological ; it was not the problem of 
the soul, but the problem of the world, which it first attempted 
to solve. 

" And what was the procedure of philosophy in its solution 
of this problem? Did it first decompose the whole into its 
parts, in order again to reconstruct them into a system ? This 
it could not accomplish ; but still it attempted this, and nothing 
else. A complete analysis was not to be expected from the 
first efforts of intelligence ; its decompositions were necessarily 
partial and imperfect ; a partial and imperfect analysis aflbrded 
only hypothetical elements ; and the synthesis of these elements 
issued, consequently, only in a one-sided or erroneous theory. 



THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 67 

Thales and the Ionic School. — " Tliales, the founder of the 
Ionian pliilosophy, devoted an especial study to the pha3nomena 
of the material universe ; and, struck with the appearances of 
power which water manifested in the formation of bodies, he 
analyzed all existences into this element, which he viewed as 
the universal principle, — the universal agent of creation. He 
proceeded by an incomplete analysis, and generalized, by hy- 
pothesis, the law which he drew by induction from the observa- 
tion of a small series of phsenomena. 

" The Ionic school continued in the same path. They limited 
themselves to the study of external nature, and sought in mat- 
ter the principle of existence. Anaximander of Miletus, the 
countryman and disciple of Thales, deemed that he had traced 
the primary cause of creation to an ethereal principle, which 
occupied space, and whose different combinations constituted the 
universe of matter. Anaximenes found the original element in 
air, from which, by rarefaction and condensation, he educed ex- 
istences. Anaxagoras carried his analysis further, and made a 
more discreet use of hypothesis ; he rose to the conception of 
an intelhgent first cause, distinct from the phaenomena of na- 
ture ; and his notion of the Deity was so far above the gross con- 
ceptions of his contemporaries, that he was accused of atheism. 

Pythagoras and the Italic School, — " Pythagoras, the founder 
of the Italic school, analyzed the properties of number ; and 
the relations which this analysis revealed, he elevated into 
principles of the mental and material universe. Mathematics 
were his only objects ; his analysis was partial, and his synthe- 
sis was consequently hypothetical. The Italic school developed 
the notions of Pythagoras, and, exclusively preoccupied with 
the relations and harmonies of existence, its disciples did not 
extend their speculation to the consideration either of substance 
or of cause. 

" Thus, these earlier schools, taking external nature for their 
point of departure, proceeded by an imperfect analysis, and a 
presumptuous synthesis, to the construction of exclusive sys- 
tems, --in which Idealism or Materiahsm preponderated, ac- 
cording to the kind of data on which they founded. 



G8 THE METHOD OF PHH^OSOPHY. 

" The Eleatic school^ which is distinguished into two branches, 
the one of Physical, the other of Metaphysical, speculation, ex- 
hibits the same character, the same point of departure, the 
same tendency, and the same errors. 

" These errors led to the scepticism of the Sophists, which 
was assailed by Socrates, — the sage who determined a new 
epoch in philosophy by directing observation on man himself; 
and henceforward the study of mind becomes the prime and cen- 
tral science of philosophy. 

" The point of departure was changed, but not the method. 
The observation or analysis of the human mind, though often 
profound, remained always, incomplete. Fortunately, the first 
disciples of Socrates, imitating the prudence of their master, 
and warned by the downfall of the systems of the Ionic, Italic, 
and Eleatic schools, made a sparing use of synthesis, and 
hardly a pretension to system. 

"Plato and Aristotle directed their observation on the phae- 
nomena of intelligence, and we cannot too highly admire the 
profundity of their analysis, and even the sobriety of their syn- 
thesis. Plato devoted himself more particularly to the higher 
faculties of intelligence ; and his disciples were led, by the love 
of generalizatiofi, to regard as the intellectual whole those por- 
tions of intelligence which their master had analyzed ; and this 
exclusive spirit gave birth to systems false, not in themselves, 
but as resting upon a too narrow basis. Aristotle, on the other 
hand, whose genius was of a more positive character, analyzed 
with admirable acuteness those operations of mind which stand 
in more immediate relation to the senses ; and this tendency, 
which among his followers became often exclusive and exag- 
gerated, naturally engendered systems which more or less 
tended to materialism." 

School of Alexandria. — The school of Alexandria, in which 
the systems resulting from those opposite tendencies were com- 
bined, endeavored to reconcile and to fuse them into a still 
more comprehensive system. Eclecticism, — conciliation, — 
union, were, in all things, the grand aim of the Alexandrian 
school. Geographically situated between Greece and Asia, it 



THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 69 

endeavored to ally Greek with Asiatic genius, religion with phi- 
losophy. Hence the JSTeoplatonic system, of which the last 
great representative is Proclus. This system is the result of 
the long labor of the Socratic schools. It is an edifice reared 
by synthesis out of the materials which analysis had col- 
lected, proved, and accumulated, from Socrates down to Plo- 
tinus. 

But a synthesis is of no greater value than its relative analy- 
sis ; and as the analysis of the earlier Greek philosophy was 
not complete, the synthesis of the Alexandrian school was 
necessarily imperfect. 

In the Scholastic philosophy, analysis and observation were 
too often neglected in some departments of philosophy, and too 
often carried rashly to excess in others. 

Bacon and Descartes, — After the revival of letters, during 
the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, the labors of philosophy 
were principally occupied in restoring and illustrating the 
Greek systems ; and it was not until the seventeenth century, 
that a new epoch was determined by the genius of Bacon and 
Descartes. In Bacon and Descartes our modern philosophy 
may be said to originate, inasmuch as they were the first who 
made the doctrine of method a principal object of considera- 
tion. They both proclaimed, that, for the attainment of scien- 
tific knowledge, it is necessary to observe with care, — that is, 
to analyze ; to reject every element as hypothetical, which this 
analysis does not spontaneously afford ; to call in experiment in 
aid of observation; and to attempt no synthesis or generaliza- 
tion, until the relative analysis has been completely accom- 
pHshed. They showed that previous philosophers had erred, not 
by rejecting either analysis or synthesis, but by hurrying on to 
synthetic induction from a limited or specious analytic observa- 
tion. They propounded no new method of philosophy, they 
only expounded the conditions of the old. They showed that 
these conditions had rarely been fulfilled by philosophers in 
time past ; and exhorted them to their fulfilment in time to 
come. Thus they explained the petty progress of the past 
philosophy ; — and justly anticipated a gigantic advancement for 



70 THE METHOD OF PHILOSOPHY. 

the 'future. Such was their precept, but such unfortunately 
was not their example. There are no philosophers who merit 
so much in the one respect, none, perhaps, who deserve less in 
€ie other. 

Of philosophy since Bacon and Descartes, we at present say 
nothing. Of that we shall hereafter have frequent occasion to 
speak. But to sum up what this historical sketch was intended 
to illustrate. There is but one possible method of philoso- 
phy, — a combination of analysis and synthesis ; and the purity 
and equiKbrium of these two elements constitute its perfection. 
The aberrations of philosophy have been all so many viola- 
tions of the laws of this one method. Philosophy has erred, 
because it built its systems upon incomplete or erroneous analy- 
sis, and it can only proceed in safety, if from accurate and 
unexclusive observation, it rise, by successive generalization, to 
a comprehensive system. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Expediency of a division of Philosophy, — As we cannot 
survey the universe at a glance, neither can we contemplate 
the whole of philosophy in one act of consciousness. We can 
only master it gradually and piecemeal ; and this is in fact the 
reason why philosophers have always distributed their science 
(constituting, ^though it does, one organic whole) into a plurality 
of sciences. The expediency, and even necessity, of a division 
of philosophy, in order that the mind may be enabled to em- 
brace in one general view its various parts, in their relation to 
each other, and to the whole which they constitute, is admitted 
by every philosopher. " Res utilis," continues Seneca, " et ad 
sapientiam properanti utique necessaria, dividi philosophiam, et 
ingens corpus ejus in membra disponi. Facihus enim pei 
partes in cognitionem totius adducimur." 

But, although philosophers agree in regard to the utility of 
such a distribution, Ihey are almost as little at one in regard to 
the parts, as they are in respect to the definition, of their sci- 
ence ; and, indeed, their differences in reference to the former, 
majnly arise from their discrepancies in reference to the latter. 
For they who vary in their comprehension of the whole, cannot 
agree in their division of the parts. 

Division into Theoretical and Practical, — The most ancient 
and universally recognized distinction of philosophy, is into 
Theoretical and Practical. These are discriminated by the 
different nature of their ends. Theoretical, called likewise 
speculative and contemplative, philosophy has for its highest 
end mere truth or knowledge. Practical philosophy, on the 
other hand, has truth or knowledge only as its proximate end, 



72 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

— this end being subordinate to the ulterior end of some prac- 
tical action. In theoretical philosophy, we know for the sake 
of knowing, scimus ut sciamus : in practical philosophy, we 
know for the sake of acting, scimus ut operemur, I may here 
notice the poverty of the English language, in the want of a 
word to express that practical activity which is contradistin- 
guished from mere intellectual or speculative energy, — what 
the Greeks express by TtQaoaeiVj the Germans by handeln. The 
want of such a word occasions frequent ambiguity ; for, to ex- 
press the species which has no appropriate word, we are com- 
pelled to employ the generic term active. Thus our philosophers 
divide the powers of the mind into Intellectual and Active. 
They do not, however, thereby mean to insinuate that the 
powers called intellectual are a whit less energetic than those 
specially denominated active. But, from the want of a better 
word, they are compelled to employ a term which denotes at 
once much more and much less than they are desirous of ex- 
pressing. I ought to observe, that the term practical has also 
obtained with us certain collateral significations, which render 
it in some respects unfit to supply the want. But to return. 

I'his distinction of Theoretical and Practical philosophy was 
first explicitly enounced by Aristotle ; and the attempts of the 
later Platonists to carry it up to Plato, and even to Pythagoras, 
are not worthy of statement, far less of refutation. Once pro- 
mulgated, the division was, how^ever, soon generally recognized. 
The Stoics borrowed it, as may be seen, from Seneca : — " Phi- 
los-ophia et contemplativa est et activa ; spectat, simulque agit." 
It was also adopted by the Epicureans ; and, in general, by 
those Greek and Roman philosophers who viewed their science 
as versant either in the contemplation of nature (^q)V6ix^), or in 
the regulation of human action (jid^i^irj) ; for by nature^ they did 
not denote the material universe alone, but their Physics in- 
cluded Metaphysics, and their Ethics embraced Politics and 
Economics. There was thus only a difference of nomenclature ; 
for Physical and Theoretical, — Ethical and Practical Pliilos- 
ophy, — were with them terms absolutely equivalent. 

This division unsound. — I regard the division of philosophy 



THE DIVISIONS OF nULOSOPHY. 73 

into Theoretical and Practical as unsound, and this for two 
reasons. 

The first is, that philosophy, as philo?oj)hy, is only cognitive, 
— only theoretical ; whatever lies beyond the sphere of specu- 
lation or knowledge, transcends the sphere of philosophy ; 
consequently, to divide philosophy by any quality ulterior to 
speculation, is to divide it by a difference which does not be- 
long to it. Now, the distinction of practical philosophy from 
theoretical commits this error. For, while it is admitted that 
all philosophy, as cognitive, is theoretical, some philosophy is 
again taken out of this category, on the ground, that, beyond the 
mere theory, — the mere cognition, — it has an ulterior end in 
its application to practice. 

But, in the second place, this difference, even w^ere it admis- 
sible, would not divide philosophy ; for, in point of fact, all 
philosophy must be regarded as practical, inasmuch as mere 
knowledge, — that is, the mere possession of truth, — is not the 
highest end of any philosophy ; but on the contrary, all truth or 
knowledge is valuable only inasmuch as it determines the mind 
to its contemplation, — that is, to practical energy. Speculation, 
therefore, inasmuch as it is not a negation of thought, but on 
the contrary, the highest energy of intellect, is, in point of fact, 
preeminently practical. The practice of one branch of philos- 
ophy is, indeed, different from that of another ; but all are still 
practical; for in none is mere knowledge the ultimate, the 
highest, end. 

It is manifest that, in our sense of the term practical^ Logic, 
as an instrumental science, would be comprehended under the 
head of practical philosophy. 

The terms Art and Science, — I shall take this opportunity 
of explaining an anomaly which you will find explained in no 
work with which I am acquainted. Certain branches of philo- 
sophical knowledge are called Arts, — or Arts and Sciences 
indifferently ; others are exclusively denominated Sciences. 
Were this distinction coincident with the distinction of sciences 
speculative and sciences practical, — taking the term practical 
in its ordinary acceptation, — there would be no difficulty ;* for, 



74 • THE DIVISIONS OF PHTLOSOPHY. 

as every practical science necessarily involves a theory, nothing 
could be more natural than to call the same branch of knowl- 
edge an art, when viewed as relative to its practical application, 
and a science when viewed in relation to the theory which that 
application supposes. But this is not the case. The specula- 
tive sciences, indeed, are never denominated arts ; we may, 
therefore, throw them aside. The difficulty is exclusively con- 
fined to the practical. Of these, some never receive the name 
of arts ; others are called arts and sciences indifferently. Thus 
the sciences of Ethics, Economics, Politics, Theology, etc., 
though all practical, are never denominated arts ; whereas this 
appellation is very usually applied to the practical sciences of 
Logic, Rhetoric, Grammar, etc. 

That the term art is with us not coextensive with practical 
science, is thus manifest; and yet these are frequently con- 
founded. Thus, for example. Dr. Wliately, in his definition 
of Logic, thinks that Logic is a science, in so far as it institutes 
an analysis of the process of the mind in reasoning, and an art, 
in so far as it affords practical rules to secure the mind from 
error in its deductions ; and he defines an art, the application of 
knowledge to practice. Now, if this view were correct, art and 
practical science would be convertible terms. But that they 
are not employed as synonymous expressions is, as we have 
seen, shown by the incongruity we feel in talking of the art of 
Ethics, the art of Religion, etc., though these are eminently 
practical sciences. 

The question, therefore, still remains. Is this restriction of the 
term art to certain of the practical sciences the result of some 
accidental and forgotten usage, or is it founded on any rational 
principle which we are able to trace ? The former alternative 
seems to be the common belief; for no one, in so far as I know, 
has endeavored to account for the apparently vague and capri- 
cious manner in which the terms art and science are applied. 
The latter alternative, however, is the true ; and I shall en- 
deavor to explain to you the reason of the application of the 
term art to certain practical sciences, and not to others. 

Historical origin of this usfi of language, — You are aware 



THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 75 

that tlie Aristotelic philosophy was, for many centuries, not only 
the prevalent, but during the middle ages, the one exclusive 
philosophy in Europe. This philosophy of the middle ages, or, 
as it is commonly called, the Scholastic Philosophy, has exerted 
the most extensive influence ^n the languages of modern Eu- 
rope ; and from this common source has been principally derived 
that community of expression which these languages exhibit. 
Now, the peculiar application of the term art was introduced 
into the vulgar tongues from the scholastic philosophy ; and was 
borrowed by that philosophy from Aristotle. This is only one 
of a thousand instances, which might be alleged, of the unfelt 
influence of a single powerful mind, on the associations and 
habits of thought of generations to the end of time ; and of 
Aristotle is preeminently true, what has been so beautifully said 
of the ancients in general : — 

" The great of old ! 
The dead but sceptred sovrans who still nile 
Our spirits from their urns." 

Now, then, the application of the term art in the modern 
languages being mediately governed by certain distinctions 
which the capacities of the Greek tongue allowed Aristotle to 
establish, these distinctions must be explained. 

In the Aristotelic philosophy, the terms nqa^ig and TTQaxTixog, 
— that is, practice and practical, were employed both in a ge- 
neric or looser, and in a special or stricter signification. In its 
generic meaning, itQa^ig, practice, was opposed to theory or 
speculation, and it comprehended under it practice in its special 
meaning, and another coordinate term to which practice, in this, 
its stricter signification, was opposed. This term was TtoiriGig, 
which we may inadequately translate by production. The dis 
tinction of TtQayaixog and TtoirjTixog consisted in this : the former 
denoted that action which terminated in action, — the latter, 
that action which resulted in some permanent product. For 
example, dancing and music are practical, as leaving no work 
after their performance ; whereas, painting and statuary are 
productive, as leaving some product over and above their en- 
ergy. 



76' THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Now Aristotle, in formally defining art, defines it as a habit 
productive, and not as a habit practical, ahg noirixvAri (j.eta Xoyov ; 
-—and, though he has not always himself adhered strictly to this 
limitation, his definition was adopted by his followers, and the 
term in its application to the practical sciences (the term prac- 
tical being here used in its generic meaning), came to be exclu- 
sively confined to those whose end did not result in mere action 
or energy. Accordingly, as Ethics, Politics,, etc., proposed hap 
piness as their end, — and as happiness was an energy, or at 
least the concomitant of energy, these sciences terminated in 
action, and were consequently practical, not productive. On 
the other hand. Logic, Khetoric, etc., did not terminate in a 
mere, — an evanescent action, but in a permanent, — an endur- 
ing product. For the end of Logic was the production of a 
reasoning, the end of Rhetoric the production of an oration, 
and so forth. This distinction is not perhaps beyond the reach 
of criticism, and I am not here to vindicate its correctness. My 
only aim is to make you aware of the grounds of the distinction, 
in order that you may comprehend the principle which origi- 
nally determined the application of the term art to some of the 
practical sciences and not to others, and without a knowledge 
of which principle, the various employment of the term must 
appear to you capricious and unintelligible. It is needless, per- 
haps, to notice that the rule applies only to the philosophical 
sciences, — to those which received their form and denomina- 
tions from the learned. The mechanical dexterities were be- 
neath their notice ; and these were accordingly left to receive 
their appellations from those who knew nothing of the Aristo- 
telic proprieties. Accordingly, the term art is in them applied, 
without distinction, to productive and unproductive operations. 
We speak of the art of rope-dancing, equally as of the art of 
rope-making. But to return. 

Universality of this division of Philosophy. — The division 
of philosophy into Theoretical and Practical is the most impor- 
tant that has been made ; and it is that which has entered into 
nearly all the distributions attempted by modern philosophers. 
Bacon was the first, after the revival of letters, who essayed a 



THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 77 

distribution of the sciences and of philosophy. He divided all 
human knowledge into History, Poetry, and Philosophy. Phi- 
losophy he distinguished into branches conversant about the 
Deity, about Nature, and about Man ; and each of these had 
their subordinate divisions, which, however, it is not necessary 
to particularize. 

Descartes distributed philosophy into theoretical and practi- 
cal, with various subdivisions ; but his followers adopted the 
division of Logic, Metaphysics, Physics, and Ethics. Gassendi 
recognized, like the ancients, three parts of philosophy. Logic, 
Physics, and Ethics, and this, along with many other of Gas- 
sendi's doctrines, was adopted by Locke. Kant distinguished 
philosophy into theoretical and practical, with various subdivis- 
ions ; and the distribution into theoretical and practical was also 
established by Fichte. 

I have now concluded the general Introduction to Philoso- 
phy, in which, frpm the general nature of the subjects, I have 
been compelled to anticipate conclusions, and to depend on your 
being able to supply a good deal of what it was impossible for 
me articulately to explain. I now enter upon the considera- 
tion of the matters which are hereafter to occupy our attention, 
with comparatively little apprehension, — for, in these, we shall 
be able to dwell more upon details, while, at the same time, the 
subject will open upon us by degrees, so that, every step that 
we proceed, we shall find the progress easier. But I have to 
warn you, that you will probably find the very commencement 
the m,ost arduous, and this not only because you will come less 
inured to difficulty, but because it will there be necessary to 
deal with principles, and these of a general and abstract na- 
ture ; whereas, having once mastered these, every subsequent 
step will be comparatively easy. 

Without entering upon details, I may now summarily state* 
the order which I propose to follow. This requires a prehm- 
inary exposition of the different departments of Philosophy, in 
order that you may obtain a comprehensive view of the proper 
objects of our consideration, and of the relations in which they 
stand to others. 

7=* 



78 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY 

Distribution of the Sciences, — Science and pMlosopliy are 
conversant either about Mind or about Matter. The former of 
these is Philosophy, properly so called. With the latter we 
have nothing to do, except in so far as it may enable us to 
throw light upon the former ; for Metaphysics, in whatever lati- 
tude the term be taken, is a science, or complement of sciences, 
exclusively occupied with mind. Now the Philosophy of 
Mind, — Psychology or Metaphysics, in the widest signification 
of the terms, — is threefold ; for the object it immediately pro- 
poses for consideration may be either, 1°, Phenomena in 
general; or, 2°, Laws; or, 3°, Inferences, — Results. 
This I will endeavor to explain. 

The three grand questions of Philosophy, — The whole of 
philosophy is the answer to these three questions: 1°, What 
are the Facts or Phsenomena to be observed ? 2°, What are 
the Laws which regulate these facts, or under which these phse- 
nomena appear ? 3°, What are the real Results, not immedi- 
ately manifested, which these facts or phasnomena warrant us in 
drawing ? 

Phenomenology, — If we consider the mind merely with the 
view of observing and generalizing the various phasnomena it 
reveals, — that is, of analyzing them into capacities or facul- 
ties, — we have one mental science, or one department of men- 
tal science; and this we may call the Phenomenology of 
Mind. It is commonly called Psychology — Empirical 
Psychology, or the Inductive Philosophy of Mind ; we 
might call it Phenomenal Psychology. It is evident that 
the divisions of this science will be determined by the classes 
into which the phsenomena of mind are distributed. 

Nomology and its subdivisions, — If, again, we analyze the 
mental phsenomena with the view of discovering and consider- 
ing, not contingent appearances, but the necessary and universal 
facts, -— i. e, the laws by which our faculties are governed, to 
the end that we may obtain a criterion by which to judge or to 
explain their procedures and manifestations, — we have a sci- 
ence which we may call the Nomology of Mind, — nomo- 
LOGiCAL PSYCHOLOGY. Now, there will be as many distinct 



THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 79 

classes of Nomological Psychology, as there are distinct classes 
of mental phaenomena under the Phaenomenological division. 
I shall, hereafter, show you that there are Three great classes 
of these phaenomena, — namely, 1°, The phaenomena of our 
Cognitive faculties, or faculties of Knowledge ; 2°, The phae- 
nomena of our Feelings, or the phaenomena of Pleasure and 
Pain; and, 3°, The phaenomena of our Conative powers, — in 
other words, the phaenomena of Will and Desire. Each of 
these classes of phaenomena has, accordingly, a science which is 
conversant about its Laws. For, as each proposes a different 
end, and, in the accomplishment of that end, is regulated by 
peculiar laws, each must, consequently, have a different science 
conversant about these laws, — that is, a different Nomology. 

There is no one, no Nomological^ science of the Cognitive 
faculties^ in general ; though we have some older treatises which, 
though partial in their subject, afford a name not unsuitable for 
a nomology of the cognitions, — namely, Gnoseologia or Gnos- 
tologia. There is no independent science of the laws of Per- 
ception ; if there were, it might be called -Esthetic, which, 
however, as we shall see, would be ambiguous. Mnemonic, or 
the science of the laws of Memory, has been elaborated at least 
in numerous treatises ; but the name Anamnestic, the art of 
Recollection or Reminiscence, might be equally well apphed to 
it. The laws of the Representative faculty, — that is, the laws 
of Association, have not yet been elevated into a separate 
nomological science. Neither have the conditions of the Regu- 
lative or Legislative faculty, the faculty itself of Laws, been 
fully- analyzed, far less reduced to system ; though we have 
several deservedly forgotten treatises, of an older date, under 
the inviting name of Noologies. The only one of the cognitive 
faculties, whose laws constitute the object-matter of a separate 
science, is the Elaborative, — the Understanding Special, the 
faculty of relations, the faculty of Thought Proper. This 
nomology has obtained the name of Logic among other appel- 
lations, but not from Aristotle. The best name would have 
been Dianoetic. Logic is the science of the laws of thought, 
in relation to the end which our cognitive faculties propose, — 



80 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

L e. the True. To this head might be referred Grammar, — 
Universal Grammar, — Philosophical Grammar, or the sci- 
ence conversant with the laws of Language, as the instrument 
of thought. 

The Nomology of our Feelings^ or the science of the laws 
which govern our capacities of enjoyment, in relation to the 
end which they propose, — ^. e, the Pleasurable, — has ob- 
tained no precise name in our language. It has been called the 
Philosophy of Taste, and, on the Continent especially, it has 
been denominated Esthetic. Neither name is unobjectionable. 
The first is vague, metaphorical, and even delusive. In regard 
to the second, you are aware that aiad^r^oig in Greek means 
feeling in general, as well as sense in particular ; as our term 
feeling means either the sense of touch in particular, or senti- 
ment, — and the capacity of the pleasurable and painful in 
general. Both terms are, therefore, to a certain extent, ambig- 
uous ; but this objection can rarely be avoided, and Esthetic, 
if not the best expression to be found, has already been long 
and generally employed. It is now nearly a century since 
Baumgarten, a celebrated philosopher of the Leibnitzio-Wolfian 
school, first applied the term Esthetic to the doctrine which we 
vaguely and periphrastically denominate the Philosophy of 
Taste, the theory of the Fine Arts, the science of the Beauti- 
ful and Sublime, etc., — and this term is now in general accep- 
tance, not only in Germany, but throughout the other countries 
of Europe. The term Apolaustic would have been a more 
appropriate designation. 

Finally, the Nomology of our Conative powers is Practical 
Philosophy, properly so called ; for practical philosophy is sim- 
ply the science of the laws regulative of our Will and Desires, 
in relation to the end which our conative powers propose, — 
i, e, the Good. This, as it considers these laws in relation to 
man as an individual, or in relation to man as a member of 
society, will be divided into two branches, — Ethics and Poli- 
tics ; and these again admit of various subdivisions. 

So much for those parts of the Philosophy of Mind, which 
are conversant about Phsenomena, and about Laws. The 



THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 81 

Third great branch of this philosophy is that which is engaged 
in the deduction of Inferences or Resuhs. 

Ontology, or Metaphysics Proper, — In the First branch, — 
the Phasnomenologj of mind, — philosophy is properly limited 
to the facts afforded in consciousness, considered exclusively in 
themselves. But these facts may be such as not only to be ob- 
jects of knowledge in themselves, but likewise to furnish us 
with grounds of inference to something out of themselves. As 
effects, and effects of a certain character, they may enable us 
to infer the analogous character of their unknown causes ; as 
phsenomena, and phsenomena of peculiar qualities, they may 
warrant us in drawing many conclusions regarding the distinc- 
tive character of that unknown principle, of that unknown 
substance, of which they are the manifestations. Although, 
therefore, existence be only revealed to us in phaenomena, and 
though we can, therefore, have only a relative knowledge either 
of mind or of matter ; still, by inference and analogy, we may 
legitimately attempt to rise above the mere appearances which 
experience and observation afford. Thus, for example, the ex- 
istence of God and the Immortality of the Soul are not given 
us as phaenomena, as objects of immediate knowledge ; yet, if 
the phsenomena actually given do necessarily require, for their 
rational explanation, the hypotheses of immortality and of God, 
we are assuredly entitled, from the existence of the former, to 
infer the reality of the latter. Now, the science conversant 
about all such inferences of unknown being from its known 
manifestations, is called Ontology, or Metaphysics Proper. 
We might call it Inferential Psychology. 

The following is a tabular view of the distribution of Philos- 
ophy as here proposed : 





1 


' Cognitions. 


i 


Facts, — Phsenomenology, Empirical ^ 


Feelings. 


OS 


Psychology. , 


Conative Powers (WiU and Desire). 


Uu 17-5 




Cognitions, — Logic 


o 


Laws, — Nomology, Rational Psy- 


Feelings, — Esthetic. 


chology. 


Cocative Powers. {Mora^r.'pS^p\ 




Results, — Ontology, Inferential Psy- 


Being of God. 


i 


chology. 


ImmortaUty of the Soul, etc. 



82 THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 

Li this distribution of the philosophical sciences, you will 
observe that I take little account of the celebrated division 
of philosophy into Speculative and Practical, which I have 
already explained to you, for I call only one minor division of 
philosophy practical, — namely, the Nomology of the Conative 
powers, not because that science is not equally theoretical with 
any other, but simply because these powers are properly called 
j)]"actical, as tending to practice or overt action. 

Distribution of Philosophy in the Universities, — The subjects 
fissigned to the various chairs of the Philosophical Faculty, in 
the different" Universities of Europe, were not calculated upon 
any comprehensive view of the parts of philosophy, and of their 
natural connection. The universities were founded when the 
Aristotelic philosophy was the dominant, or rather the exclu- 
sive, system, and the parts distributed to the different classes, in 
the faculty of Arts or Philosophy, were regulated by the contents 
of certain of the Aristotelic books, and by the order in which 
they were studied. Of these, there were always Four great 
divisions. There was first. Logic, in relation to the Organon of 
Aristotle ; secondly. Metaphysics, relative to his books under 
that title ; thirdly. Moral Philosophy, relative to his Ethics, 
Politics, and Economics ; and, fourthly. Physics, relative to 
his Physics, and the collection of treatises styled in the schools 
the Parva Naturalia, But every university had not a full 
complement of classes, that is, did not devote a separate year 
to each of the four subjects of study ; and, accordingly, in 
those seats of learning where three years formed the curricu- 
lum of philosophy, two of these branches were combined. In 
the university of Edinburgh, Logic and Metaphysics were 
taught in the same year ; in others, Metaphysics and Moral 
Philosophy were conjoined ; and, when the old practice was 
abandoned of the several Pegents or Professors carrying on 
their students through every department, the two branches 
which had been taught in the same year were assigned to the 
same chair. What is most curious in the matter is this, — 
Aristotle's treatise On the Soul being (along with his lesser 
treatises on Memory and Reminiscence, on Sense and its Objects, 



THE DIVISIONS OF PHILOSOPHY. 83 

etc.) included in the Parva Naturalia^ and, lie having declared 
that the consideration of the soul was part of* the philosophy of 
nature, the science of Mind was always treated along with 
Physics. The professors of Natural Philosophy have, however, 
long abandoned the philosophy of mind, and this branch has 
been, as more appropriate to their departments, taught both by 
the Professors of Moral Philosophy and by the Professors of 
Logic and Metaphysics ; — for you are not to suppose that meta- 
physics and psychology are, though vulgarly used as synony- 
mous expressions, by any means the same. 

In this work, we have nothing to do with Practical Philoso- 
phy, — that is. Ethics, Politics, Economics. But with this 
exception, there is no other branch of philosophy which does 
not fall naturally within our sphere. 



CHAPTER VI. 

DEFINITIOE^ OF PSYCHOLOGY; RELATIVITY OF HUMAIT 
KNOWLEDGE ; EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

Psychology, or the Philosophy of the Human Mind, 
strictly so denominated, is the science conversant about the 
fhcenomena^ or modifications^ or states of the Mind^ or Con- 
scious-Subject^ or Soul^ or Spirit^ or Self^ or Ego, 

In this definition, you will observe that I have purposely 
accumulated a variety of expressions, in order that I might 
have the earliest opportunity of making you accurately ac- 
quainted with their meaning ; for they are terms of vital im- 
portance and frequent use in philosophy. — Before, therefore, 
proceeding further, I shall pause a moment in explanation of 
the terms in which this definition is expressed. Without re- 
stricting myself to the following order, I shall consider the 
word Psychology ; the correlative terms subject and substance , 
fhcenomenon^ modification^ state^ etc., and, at the same time, take 
occasion to explain another correlative, the expression object ; 
and, finally, the words mind, soul, spirit, self, and ego. 

Indeed, after considering these terms, it may not be im- 
proper to take up, in one series, the philosophical expressions 
of principal importance and most ordinary occurrence, in order 
to render less frequent the necessity of interrupting the course 
of our procedure, to afford the requisite verbal explanations. 

The use of the term Psychology vindicated, — The term Psy- 
chology, is a Greek compound, its elements \pvx% signifying 
soul or mind, and Xoyog, signifying discourse or doctrine. Psy- 
chology, therefore, is the discourse or doctrine treating of the 
human mind. But, though composed of Greek elements, it is, 
iike the greater number of the compounds of Xoyog, of modem 
(84) 



DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 85 

combination. I may be asked, — why use an exotic, a techni- 
cal name ? Why not be contented with the more-popular terms, 
Philosophy of Mind^ or 3fental Philosophy^ — Sciemce of Mind, 
or Mental Science ? — expressions by which this department of 
knowledge has been usually designated by those who, in Scotland, 
have cultivated it with the most distinguished success. To this 
there are several answers. In thcj^r^^ place, philosophy itself, and 
all, or almost all, its branches, have, in our language, received 
Greek technical denominations ; — why not also the most impor- 
tant of all, the science of mind ? In the second place, the term 
psychology is now, and has long been, the ordinary expression 
for the doctrine of mind in the philosophical language of every 
other European nation. Nay, in point of fact, it is now natu- 
ralized in English, psychology and psychological having of late 
years come into common use ; and their employment is war- 
ranted by the authority of the best English writers. But these 
are reasons in themselves of comparatively little moment : they 
tend merely to show that, if otherwise expedient, the nomen- 
clature is permissible ; and that it is expedient, the following 
reasons will prove. For, in the third place, it is always of con- 
sequence, for the sake of precision, to be able to use one word 
instead of a plurality of words, — especially where the frequent 
occurrence of a descriptive appellation might occasion tedium, 
distraction, and disgust ; and this must necessarily occur in the 
treatment of any science, if the science be able to possess no 
single name vicarious of its definition. In this respect, there- 
fore, Psychology is preferable to Philosophy of Mind, But, in 
the fourth place, even if the employment of the description for 
the name could, in this instance, be tolerated when used sub- 
stantively, what are we to do when we require (which we do 
unceasingly) to use the denomination of the science adjectively ? 
For example, I have occasion to say sl psychological fad, sl psy- 
chological law, 2i psychological curiosity, etc. How can we ex- 
press these by the descriptive appellation? A psychological 
fact may indeed be styled " a fact considered relatively to the 
philosophy of the human mind," — a psychological law may be 
called " a law by which the mental phsenomena are governed," — 
8 



86 DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a psychological curiosity may be rendered — by what, I really 
do not know. ^ But how miserably weak, awkward, tedious, and 
affected, is the commutation when it can be made ; not only do 
the vivacity and precision of the original evaporate, the mean- 
ing itself is not even adequately conveyed. But this defect is 
still more manifestly shown, when we wish to place in contrast 
the matters proper to this science, with the matters proper to 
others. Thus, for example, to say, — this is ^psychological, not 
^physiological doctrine — this is a psychological observation, 
not a logical inference. How is the contradistinction to be ex- 
pressed by a periphrasis ? It is impossible ; — for the intensity 
of the contrast consists, first, in the two opposite terms being 
single words, and second, in their being both even technical and 
precise Greek. This necessity has, accordingly, compelled the 
adoption of the terms psychology and psychological into the 
philosophical nomenclature of every nation, even where the 
same necessity did not vindicate the employment of a non-ver- 
nacular expression. Thus in Germany, though the native lan- 
guage affords a facility of composition only inferior to the Greek, 
and though it possesses a word {Seelenlehre) exactly correspond- 
ent to 'xpvyoloyia, yet because this substantive did not easily 
allow of an adjective flexion, the Greek terms, substantive and 
adjective, were both adopted, and have been long in as familiar 
use in the Empire, as the terms geography and geographical, — 
physiology and physiological, are with us. 

Other terms inappropriate. — What I have no^7 said may 
suffice to show that, to supply necessity, we must introduce 
these words into our philosophical vocabulary. But the pro- 
priety of this is still further shown by the inauspicious attempts 
that have been recently made on the name of the science. Dr. 
Blown, in the very title of the abridgment of his lectures on 
mental philosophy, has styled this philosophy, " The Physiology 
of the Human Mind ;'^ and I have also seen two English publi- 
cations of modern date, — one entitled the " Physics of the 
Sou^^ the other " Litellectual Physics J^ Now the term nature 
{q)V6ig, natura), though in common language of a more exten- 
sive meaning, has, in general, by philosophers, been applied 



DEFINITION OF PSYCHOLOGY. 87 

appropriiitel}' to denote the laws which govern the appeai'anees 
of the material universe. A^d the words Physiology and 
Physics have been specially limited to denote sciences conver- 
sant about these laws as regulating the phaenomena of organic 
and inorganic bodies. The empire of nature is the empire of a 
mechanical necessity ; tlie necessity of nature, in philosophy, 
stands opposed to the liberty of intelligence. Those, accord- 
ingly, who do not allow that mind is matter, — who hold that 
there is in man a principle of action superior to the determina- 
tions of a physical necessity, a brute or blind fate, — must 
regard the application of the terms Physiology and Physics to 
the doctrine of the mind as either singularly inappropriate, or 
as significant of a false hypothesis in regard to the character of 
the thinking principle. 

Use and derivation of Spirit, Soul, — Mr. Stewart objects to 
the term Spirit, as seeming to imply an hypothesis concerning 
the nature and essence of the sentient or thinking principle, 
altogether unconnected with our conclusions in regard to its 
phainomena, and their general laws ; and, for the same reason, 
he is disposed to object to the words Pneumatology and Psy- 
chology, the former of which was introduced by the school- 
men. In regard to Spirit and Pneumatology/, Mr. Stewart's 
criticism is perfectly just. They are unnecessary ; and, besides 
the etymological metaphor, they are associated with a certain 
theological limitation, which spoils them as expressions of philo- 
sophical generality.* But this is not the case with Psychology, 
Yov though, in its etymology, it is, like almost all metaphysical 
terms, originally of physical application, still this had been long 
forgotten even by the Greeks.; and, if we were to reject philo- 
so])hical expressions on this account, we should be left without 
any terms for the mental phaenomena at all. The term soul 

^ The terms Psychology and Pneum otology, or Pneumatic, are not equiva- 
lents. The latter word was used for the doctrine of spirit in general, wliicb 
was subdivided into three branches, as it treated of the three orders of spir 
itual substances, — God, — Angels and Devils, — and Man, Thus — 

) 1. Theologia (Naturalis). 
Pneumatologia or Pneumatica, y 2. Angelographia, Dsemonologia. 

} 3. Psychologia. 



88 RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

(and wiiat I say of the term soul is true of the term spirit)^ 
though in this country less employed than the term mind, may 
be regarded as another synonym for the unknown basis of the 
mental phjenomena. Like nearly all the words significant of 
the internal world, there is here a metaphor borrowed from the 
external ; and this is the case not merely in one, but, as far as 
we can trace the analogy, in all languages. You are aware 
that i/^f;^^, the Greek term for soul, comes from W/w, / breathe 
or hloio, — as itvEviia in Greek, and spiritus in Latin, from 
verbs of the same signification. In like manner, anima and 
animus are words which, though in Latin they have lost their 
primary signification, and are only known in their secondary or 
metaphorical, yet in their original physical meaning, are pre- 
served in the Greek avsfjtog, ivind or air. The English soul, 
and the German Seele, come from a Gothic root saivala, which 
signifies to storm. Ghost, the old Enghsh word for spirit in 
general, and so used in our English version of the Scriptures, 
is the same as the German Geist, and is derived from Gas, or 
Gescht, which signifies air. In like manner, the two words in 
Hebrew for soul or spirit, nephesh and ruach, are derivatives 
of a root which means to breathe ; and in Sanscrit, the word 
atmd (analogous to the Greek dt[i6g, vapor or air) signifies 
both mind and wind or air. Sapientia, in Latin, originally 
meant only the power of tasting ; as sagacitas only the faculty 
of scenting. In French, penser comes from the Latin pendere, 
through, pensare to weigh, and the terms, attentio, intentio (en- 
tendement), comprehensio, apprehensio, penetratio, understand- 
ing, etc., are just so many bodily actions transferred to the 
expression of mental energies. 

In the second place, I said that Psychology is conversant 
about the phcenomena of the thinking subject, etc. ; and I now 
proceed to expound the import of the- correlative terms phce- 
nomenon, subject, etc. 

Correlative terms illustrated by the relativity of human knowl- 
edge. — But the meaning of these terms will be best illustrated 
by now stating and explaining the great axiom, that all human 
knowledge, consequently that all human philosophy, is only of* 



RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 80 

tlie relative or phaenomenal. In this proposition, the term rela- 
tive is opposed to the term absolute ; and, therefore, in saying 
that we know only the relative, I virtually assert that we know 
nothing absolute, — nothing existing absolutely ; that is, in and 
for itself, and without relation to us and our faculties. I shall 
illustrate this by its application. Our knowledge is either of 
matter or of mind. Now, what is matter ? What do we know 
of matter ? Matter, or body, is to us the name either of some- 
thing known, or of something unknown. In so far as matter is 
a name for something known, it means that which appears to us 
under the forms of extension, solidity, divisibility, figure, mo- 
tion, roughness, smoothness, color, heat, cold, etc. ; in short, it is 
a common name for a certain series, or aggregate, or comple- 
ment of appearances or phgenomena manifested in coexistence. 

!6ut as the phsenomena appear only in conjunction, we are 
compelled by the constitution of our nature to think them con- 
joined in and by something ; and as they are phsenomena, we 
cannot think them the phsenomena of nothing, but must regard 
them as the properties or qualities of something that is extended, 
solid, figured, etc. But this something, absolutely and in 'tself, 
— ^. e, considered apart from its pheenomena, — is to us as zero. 
It is only in its qualities, only in its effects, in its relative or 
phgenomenal existence, that it is cognizable or conceivable ; and 
it is only by a law of thought, which compels us to think some- 
thing, absolute and unknown, as the basis or condition of the 
relative and known, that this something obtains a kind of in- 
comprehensible reality to us. Now, that which manifests its 
qualities, — in other words, that in which the appearing causes 
inhere, that to which they belong, is called their subject, or sub- 
stance, or substratum. To this subject of the phaenomena of 
extension, solidity, etc., the term matter or material substance is 
commonly given ; and, therefore, as contradistinguished from 
these qualities, it is the name of something unknown and in- 
conceivable. 

The same is true in regard to the term mind. In so far as 
mind is the common name for the states of knowing, willing, 
feeling, desiring, etc., of which I am conscious, it. is only the 

8* 



DO EEI \TIYITY OF HUMA>i KNOWLEDGE. 

name for a certain series of connected phagnomena or qualities, 
and, consequently, expresses only what is known. But in so 
far as it denotes that subject or substance in which the phoenom- 
ena of knowing, willing, etc., inhere, — something behind or 
under these phsenomena, — it expresses what, in itself, or in its 
absolute existence, is unknown. 

Thus, mind and matter, as known or knowable, are only two 
different series of phaenomena or qualities ; mind and matter, as 
unknown and unknowable, are the two substances in which 
these two different series of phasnomena or quahties are sup- 
posed to inhere. The existence of an unknown substance is 
only an inference we are compelled to make, from the existence 
of known phsenomena ; and the distinction of two substances is 
only inferred from the seeming incompatibility of the two series 
of phsenomena to coinhere in one. 

Our whole knowledge of mind and matter is thus, as we have 
said, only relative ; of existence, absolutely and in itself, we 
know nothing; and we may say of man what Yirgil says of 
-^neas, contemplating in the prophetic sculpture of his shield 
the future glories of Rome — 

" Rerumque ignarus, imagine gaudet." 

Testimonies to the relativity of human knowledge, — This is, 
indeed, a truth, in the admission of which philosophers, in gen- 
eral, have been singularly harmonious ; and the praise that has 
been lavished on Dr. Reid for this observation, is wholly unmer- 
ited. In fact, I am hardly aware of the philosopher who has 
not proceeded on the supposition, and there are few who have 
not explicitly enounced the observation. It is only since Reid's 
deatli that certain speculators have arisen, who have obtained 
celebrity by their attempt to found philosophy on an immediate 
knowledge of the absolute or unconditioned. I shall quote to 
you a few examples of this general recognition, as they happen 
to occur to my recollection ; and, in order to manifest the better 
its universality, I purposely overlook the testimonies of a more 
modern philosophy. 

Aristotle, .among miny similar observations, remarks in re- 



KELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 91 

gard to matter, that it is incognizable in itself ; while in regard 
to mind he says, " that the intellect does not know itself directly, 
but only indirectly, in knowing other things ; " and he defines 
the soul from its pha3nomena, " the principle by which we live, 
and move, and perceive, and understand." St Augustin, the 
most philosophical of the Christian fathers, admirably says of 
body, — " Materiam cognoscendo ignorari, et ignorando cog- 
nosci ; " [" By assuming that we know matter, we betray our 
ignorance of it ; and it is only by admitting this ignorance, that 
we can be said to know it ; "] and of mind, — " Mens se cognos- 
cit cognoscendo se vivere, se meminisse, se intelligere, se velle, 
cogitare, scire, judicare." ["The mind knows itself only by 
knowing that it lives, remembers, understands, wills, thinks, 
knows, and judges."] "Non incurrunt," says Melanchthon, 
" ipsae substantias in oculos, sed vestitas et ornatae accidentibus ; 
hoc est, non possumus, in hac vita, acie oculorum perspicere 
ipsas substantias : sed utcunque, ex accidentibus quas in sensus 
exteriores incurrunt, ratiocinamur, quomodo inter se differant 
substantive." ["The substances themselves are not exposed to 
sight, but only so far they are covered and adorned with their 
attributes ; that is, we are not able, in this life, to behold the 
substances themselves ; but from the phenomena which are 
manifest to our external senses, we somehow infer the distin- 
guishing peculiarities of the substances to which the phenomena 
belong."] 

All relative existence is not relative to us, — Thus, our knowl- 
edge is of partial and relative existence only, seeing that exist- 
ence in itself, or absolute existence,* is no object of knowledge. 
But it does not follow that all relative existence is relative to 
us ; that all that can be known, even by a limited intelligence, 
is actually cognizable by us. We must, therefore, more pre- 
cisely limit our sphere of knowledge, by adding, that all we 
know is known only under the special conditions of our facul- 
ties. This is a truth likewise generally acknowledged. " Man," 
says Protagoras, " is the measure of the universe," — a truth 

^ Absolute in two senses: 1^, As opposed to partial; 2°, As opposed 
to rotative 



92 RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

tvhich Bacon has well expressed : [" All perceptions, as well 
of the senses as of the mind, are conformed to the nature of the 
percipient individual, and not to the true nature of the uni- 
verse ; and the human understanding is like a false mirror, 
which distorts and discolors the nature of things, by mingling 
its own nature with it."] " In perception," says Kant, " every 
thing is known according to the constitution of our faculty of 
sense." 

This principle has two branches, — Now this principle, in 
which philosophers of the most opposite opinions equally con- 
cur, divides itself into two branches. In the Jirst place, it 
would be unphilosophical to conclude that the properties of 
existence necessarily are, m number^ only as the number of our 
faculties of apprehending them ; or, in the second^ that the 
properties known, are known in their native "purity^ and without 
addition or modification from our organs of sense, or our capaci 
ties of intelligence. I shall illustrate these in their order. 

In regard to the first assertion, it is evident that nothing 
exists for us, except in so far as it is known to us, and that 
nothing is known to us, except certain properties or modes of 
existence, which are relative or analogous to our faculties. 
Beyond these modes we know, and can assert, the reality of no 
existence. But if, on the one hand, we are not entitled to 
assert, as actually existent, except what we know ; neither, on 
the other, are we warranted in denying, as possibly existent, 
what we do not know. The universe may be conceived as a 
polygon of a thousand, or a hundred thousand, sides or facets, — 
and each of these sides or facets may be conceived as repre- 
senting one special mode of existence. Now, of these thousand 
sides or modes, all may be equally essential, but three or four 
only may be turned towards us, or be analogous to our organs. 
One side or facet of the universe, as holding a relation to the 
organ of sight, is the mode of luminous or visible existence ; 
another, as proportional to the organ of hearing, is the mode 
of sonorous or audible existence ; and so on. But if every eye 
to see, if every ear to hear, were annihilated, the mode of ex- 
istence to which these organs now stand in relation, — that 



KELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 93 

i 

which could be seen, that which could be heard, would still 
remain ; and if the intelligences, reduced to the three senses of 
touch, smell, and taste, were then to assert the impossibility of 
any modes of being except those to which these three senses 
were analogous, the procedure would not be more unwarranted, 
than if we now ventured to deny the possible reality of other 
modes of material existence than those to the perception of which 
OUT five senses are accommodated. I will illustrate this by an 
hypothetical parallel. Let us suppose a block of marble, on 
which there are four different inscriptions, — in Greek, in 
Latin, in Persic, and in Hebrew; and that four travellers 
approach, each able to read only the inscription in his native 
tongue. The Greek is delighted with the information the mar- 
ble affords him of the siege of Troy. The Roman finds inter- 
esting matter regarding the expulsion of the kings. The Per- 
sian deciphers an oracle of Zoroaster. And the Jew is sur- 
prised by a commemoration of the Exodus. Here, as each 
inscription exists or is significant only to him who possesses the 
corresponding language ; so the several modes of existence are 
manifested only to those intelligences vfho possess the corre- 
sponding organs. And as each of the four readers would be 
rash, if he maintained that the marble could be significant only 
as significant to him, so should we be rash, were we to hold 
that the universe had no other phases of being than the few 
that are turned towards our faculties, and which our five senses 
enable us to perceive. 

Before leaving this subject, it is perhaps proper to observe, 
that had we faculties equal in number to all the possible modes 
of existence, whether of mind or matter, still would our knowl- 
edge of mind or matter be only relative. If material existence 
could exhibit ten thousand phssnomena, and if we possessed ten 
thousand senses to apprehend these ten thousand phenomena 
of material existence, — of existence absolutely and in itself, 
we should be then as ignorant as we are at present. 

The properties of existence not known in their native purity, — 
But the consideration that our actual faculties of knoAvledge are 
probably wholly inadequate in number to the possible, modes of 



d-L RELATIVITY OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 

being, is of comparatively less importance than the other con- 
sideration to which we now proceed, — that whatever we know 
is not known as it is, but only as it seems to us to he ; for it is 
rf less importance that our knowledge should be limited, than 
that our knowledge should be pure. It is, therefore, of the high- 
est moment that we should be aware, that what we know is not 
a simple relation apprehended between the object known and the 
subject knowing, — but that every knowledge is a sum made up 
of several elements, and that the great business of philosophy is to 
analyze and discriminate these elements, and to determine from 
whence these contributions have been derived. I shall explain 
whai I mean by an example. In the perception of an external 
object, the mind does not know it in immediate relation to itself, 
but mediately, in relation to the material organs of sense. If, 
therefore, we were to throw these organs out of consideration, and 
did not take into account what they contribute to, and how they 
modify our knowledge of that object, it is evident that our con- 
clusion in regard to the nature of external perception would be 
erroneous. Again, an object of perception may not even stand 
in immediate relation to the organ of sense, but may make its 
impression on that organ through an intervening medium. 
Now, if this medium be thrown out of account, and if it be not 
considered that the real external object is the sum of all that 
externally contributes to affect the sense, we shall, in like man- 
ner, run into error. For example, I see a book, — I see that 
book through an external medium (what that medium is, we do 
not now inquire), — and I see it through my organ of sight, the 
eye. Now, as the full object presented to the mind (observe 
that I say the mind), in perception, is an object compounded of 
(1.) the external object emitting or reflecting light, ^. e. modify- 
ing the external medium, of (2.) this external medium, and of 
(3.) the living organ of sense, in their mutual relation, — let us 
suppose, in the example I have taken, that the full or ade- 
quate object perceived is equal to twelve, and that this amount 
is made up of three several parts, — of four contributed by the 
book, — of four contributed by all that intervenes between the 
book and the organ, and of four contributed by the living 
organ itself. 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 95 

I use this illustration to show, that the phgenomenon of the 
external object is not presented immediately to the mind, but is 
known bj it only as modified through certain intermediate 
agencies ; and to show that sense itself may be a source of 
error, if we do not analyze and distinguish what elements, in 
an act of perception, belong to the outward reality, what to the 
outward medium, and what to the action of sense itself. But 
this source of error is not limited to our perceptions ; and we 
are liable to be deceived, not merely by not distinguisliing in an 
act of knowledge what is contributed by sense, but by not dis- 
tinguishing what is contributed by the mind itself. This is the 
most difficult and important function of philosophy ; and the 
greater number of its higher problems arise in the attempt to 
determine the shares to which the knowing subject, and the 
object known, may pretend in the total act of cognition. For 
according as we attribute a larger or a smaller proportion to 
each, we either run into the extremes of Idealism and Materi- 
alism, or maintain an equilibrium between the two. 

In what sense human knowledge is relative, — From what has 
been said, you will be able, I hope, to understand what is meant 
by the proposition, that all our knowledge is only relative. It 
is relative, 1°, Because existence is not cognizable, absolutely 
and in itself, but only in special modes ; 2°, Because these 
modes can be known only if they stand in a certain relation to 
our faculties ; and 3°, Because the modes thus relative to our 
faculties are presented to, and known by, the mind only under 
modifications determined by these faculties themselves. 

l^wo series of expressions applied to human knowledge. — This 
general doctrine being premised, it will be proper now to take 
some special notice of the several terms significant of the 
relative nature of our knowledge. And here there are two 
opposite series of expressions, — 1*^, Those which denote the 
relative and the known ; 2°, Those which denote the absolute 
and the unknown. Of the former class, are the words phcenom- 
enon^ mode^ modification^ state^ — words which are employed in 
the definition of Psychology ; and to these may be added the 
analogous terms, — quality^ property^ attribute, accident. Of 



96 EXPLICATION OF TEKMS. 

the la iter class, — that is, the absolute and the unknown, — is 
the word subject^ which we have to explain as an element of 
the definition, and its analogous expressions, substance and sub- 
stratum. These opposite classes cannot be explained apart ; 
for, as each is correlative of the other, each can be compre- 
hended only in and through its correlative. 

The term subject (subjectum, vTtoaxaaig, v7ZO}iei[xevov) is used 
to denote the unknown basis which lies under the various phas- 
nomena or properties of which we become aware, whether in 
our internal or external experience. In the more recent phi- 
losophy, especially in that of Germany, it has, however, been 
principally employed to denote the basis of the various mental 
phsenomena ; but of this special signification we are hereafter 
more particularly to speak. 

The word substance (substantia) may be employed in two, 
but two kindred, meanings. It may be used either to denote 
that which exists absolutely and of itself; in this sense, it 
may be viewed as derived from subsistendo, and as meaning 
ens per se subsistens ; or it may be viewed as the basis of attri- 
butes, in which sense it may be regarded as derived from sub- 
stando, and as meaning id quod substat accidentibus^ like the 
Greek vnoataaig^ vTtoxeiixevov. In either case, it will, however, 
signify the same thing viewed in a different aspect. In the 
former meaning, it is considered in contrast to, and independent 
of, its attributes ; in the latter, as conjoined with these, and as 
affording them the condition of existence. In different rela- 
tions, a thing may be at once considered as a substance, and as 
an attribute, quality, or mode. This paper is a substance, in 
relation to the attribute of white ; but it is itself a mode in 
relation to the substance, matter. Substance is thus a term foi 
fhe substratum we are obliged to think to all that we variously 
lenominate a mode, a state, a quality, an attribute, a property, an 
iccident, a phcenomenon, an appearance, etc. These, though 
expressions generically the same, are, however, used with spe- 
cific distinctions. The terms mode, state, quality, attribute, 
property, accident, are employed in reference to a substance, as 
existing ; the terms phcenomenon, appearance, etc. in reference 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 97 

to it, as known. But each of these expressions has also its pe- 
culiar signification. A mode is the manner of the existence of 
a thing. Take, for example, a piece of wax. The wax may 
be round, or square, or of any other definite figure ; it may also 
be solid or fluid. Its existence in any of these modes is not 
essential ; it may change from one to the other without any 
substantial alteration. As the mode cannot exist without a 
substance, we can afford to it only a secondary or precarious 
existence in relation to the substance, to which we accord the 
privilege of existing by itself, 'per se existere ; but though the 
substance be not astricted to any particular mode of existence, 
we must not suppose that it can exist, or, at least, be conceived 
by us to exist, in none. All modes are, therefore, variable 
states; and though some mode is necessary for the existence of 
a thing, any individual mode is accidental. The word modifica- 
tion is properly the bringing a thing into a certain mode of 
existence, but it is very commonly employed for the mode of 
existence itself. State is a term nearly synonymous with mode^ 
but of a meaning more extensive, as not exclusively limited to 
the mutable and contingent. 

Quality is, likewise, a word of a wider signification, for there 
are essential and accidental qualities.* The essential qualities 
of a thing are those aptitudes, those manners of existence and 
action, which it cannot lose without ceasing to be. For exam- 
ple, in man, the faculties of sense and intelligence ; in body, the 
dimensions of length, breadth, and thickness ; in God, the attri- 
butes of eternity, omniscience, omnipotence, etc. By accidental 
qualities^ are meant those aptitudes and manners of existence 
and action, which substances have at one time and not at 
another ; or vfhich they have always, but may lose without 
ceasing to be. For example, of the transitory class are the 
whiteness of a wall, the health which we enjoy, the fineness of 
the weather, etc. Of the permanent class are the gravity of 
bodies, the periodical movement of the planets, etc. 

^ The term quality should, in strictness, be confined to accidental attri- 
butes. 

9 



98 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

The term attribute is a word properly convertible with quaU 
ity, for every quahty is an attribute, and every attribute is a 
quality ; but, in our language, custom has introduced a certain 
distinction in their appHcation. Attribute is considered as a 
word of loftier significance, and is, therefore, conveniently 
limited to qualities of a higher application. Thus, for exam- 
ple, it would be felt as indecorous to speak of the qualities of 
God, and as ridiculous to talk of the attributes of matter. 

Property is correctly a synonym for peculiar quahty ; * but 
it is frequently used as coextensive with quality in general. 
Accident, on the contrary, is an abbreviated expression for acci- 
dental or contingent quality. 

Phcenomenon is the Greek word- for that which appears, and 
may, therefore, be translated by appearance. There is, how- 
ever, a distinction to be noticed. In the first place, the employ- 
ment of the Greek term shows that it is used in a strict and 
philosophical application. In the second place, the English 
name is associated with a certain secondary or implied mean- 
ing, which, in some degree, renders it inappropriate as a pre- 
cise and definite expression. For the term appearance is used 
to denote not only that which reveals itself to our observation, 
as existent, but also to signify that which only seems to be, in 
contrast to that which truly is. There is thus not merely a 
certain vagueness in the word, but it even involves a kind of 
contradiction to the sense in which it is used when employed 
for phcenomenon. In consequence of this, the term phcenome- 
non has been naturalized in our language, as a philosophical 
substitute for the term appearance. 

^ In the older and Aristotelian sense of the term. By the later Logicians, 
the term property was less correctly used to denote a necessary quality, 
whether peculiar or not. — English Ed. 



CHAPTER VII. 

EXPLICATION OF TERMS CONTINUED. 

Recapitulation. — In the last chapter, I illustrated the prin- 
ciple, that all our knowledge of mind and matter is merely 
relative. We know, and can know, nothing absolutely and in 
itself; all that we know 'w,- existence in certain special forms or 
modeSj and these, likewise, only in so far as they may be analo- 
gous to our faculties. We may suppose existence to have a 
thousand modes ; — but these thousand modes are all to us as 
zero, unless we possess faculties accommodated to their appre- 
hension. But were the number of our faculties coextensive 
with the modes of being, — had we, for each of these thousand 
modes, a separate organ competent to make- it known to us, — 
still would our whole knowledge be, as it is at present, only of 
the relative. Of existence, absolutely and in itself, we should 
then be as ignorant as we are now. We should still apprehend 
existence only in certain special modes, — only in certain rela- 
tions to our faculties of knowledge. 

These relative modes, whether belonging to the world with- 
out, or to the world within, are, under different points of view, 
and different limitations, known under various names, as quali- 
ties, properties, essence, accidents, phcenomena, manifestations, 
appearances, and so forth ; — whereas the unknown something 
of which they are the modes, — the unknown ground, which 
affords them support, is usually termed their substance or sub- 
ject. Substance (substantia), I noticed, is considered either in 
contrast to its accidents, as res per se subsistens, or in connection 
with them, as id quod substat accidentibus. It, therefore, com- 
prehends both the Greek terms omia and vTtoaeiiAsvov, — ovoia 
being equivalent to substantia in the meaning of ens per se sub- 



100 EXPLICATION OF TERMS- 

sistetis ; — v7TOKeL[A,svov to it, as id quod suhstat accidentibus. 
The term subject is used only for substance in its second mean- 
ing, and thus corresponds to vTto'Aeijievov ; its literal signification 
is, as its etymology expresses, that which lies, or is placed, 
under the phenomena. 

Three different errors regarding Substance, — I at present 
avoid entering into the metaphysics of substance and phae- 
nomenon. I shall only observe, in general, that philosophers 
have frequently fallen into one or other of three different errors. 
Some have denied the reality of any unknown ground of the 
known phsenomena ; and have maintained that mind and matter 
have no substantial existence, but are merely the two comple- 
ments of two series of associated qualities. This doctrine is, 
however, altogether futile. It belies the veracity of our pri- 
mary beliefs ; it leaves unsatisfied the strongest necessities of 
our intellectual nature ; it admits as a fact that the phsenomena 
are connected, but allows no cause explanatory of the fact of 
their connection. Others, again, have* fallen into an opposite 
error. They have endeavored to speculate concerning the 
nature of the unknown grounds of the phsenomena of mind and 
iaatter, apart from the phsenomena, and have, accordingly, 
transcended the legitimate sphere of philosophy. A third party 
have taken some one, or more, of the phgenomena themselves as 
the basis or substratum of the others. Thus Descartes, at least 
as understood and followed by Malebranche and others of his 
disciples, made thought or consciousness convertible with the 
substance of mind ; and Bishops Brown and Law, with Dr, 
Watts, constituted solidity and extension into the substance of 
body. This theory is, however, liable to all the objections which 
may be alleged against the first. 

I defined Psychology, the science conversant about the phce- 
nomena of the mind, or conscious-subjectj or self or ego. The 
former parts of the definition have been explained ; the terms 
mind, conscious-subject, self and ego, come now to be considered. 
These are all only expressions for the unknown basis of the 
mental phsenomena, viewed, however, in different relations. 

What we mean hy mind, — Of these the word mind is the 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 101 

first. In regard to the etymology of this term, it is obscure 
and doubtful ; perhaps, indeed, none of the attempts to trace it 
to its origin are successful. It seems to hold an analogy with 
the Latin inens^ and both are probably derived from the same 
common root. This root, wliich is lost in the European lan- 
guages of Scytho-Indian origin, is probably preserved in the 
Sanscrit mena^ to know or understand. The Greek vov(;^ intel- 
ligence^ is, in like manner, derived from a verb of precisely the 
same meaning (vosoo). The word mind is of more limited sig- 
nification than the term soul. In the Greek philosophy, the 
term ipvx'^r soul, comprehends, besides the sensitive and rational 
principle in man, the principle of organic life, both in the ani- 
mal and vegetable kingdoms ; and, in Christian theology, it is 
likewise used, in contrast to uv^viia or spirit, in a vaguer and 
more extensive signification. 

Since Descartes limited Psychology to the domain of con- 
sciousness, the term mind has been rigidly employed for the 
self-knowing principle alone. Mind, therefore, is to be under- 
stood as the subject of the various internal phsenomena of which 
we are conscious, or that subject of which consciousness is the 
general phenomenon. Consciousness is, in fact, to the mind 
what extension is to matter or body. Though both are phae- 
nomena, yet both are essential qualities ; for we can neither 
conceive mind without consciousness, nor body without exten- 
sion. Mind can be defined only a posteriori, — that is, only 
from its manifestations. Wliat it is in itself, that is, apart from 
its manifestations, — we, philosophically, know nothing, and, 
accordingly, what we mean by mind is simply that which per- 
ceives, thinks, feels, wills, desires, etc. Mind, with us, is thus 
nearly coextensive with the Rational and Animal souls of Aris- 
totle ; for the faculty of voluntary motion, which is a function 
of the animal soul in the Peripatetic doctrine, ought not, as is 
generally done, to be excluded from the phasnomena of con- 
sciousness and mind. 

Conscious7iess and Conscious-suhject. — The next term to be 
considered is conscious-subject. And first, what is it to be con- 
scious ? Without anticipating the discussion relative to con- 

6^ 



102 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

sciousness, fxs the fundamental function of intelligence, I may, 
at present, simply indicate to you what an act of consciousness 
denotes. This act is of the most elementary character; it is 
the condition of all knowledge ; I cannot, therefore, define it to 
you ; but, as you are all familiar with the thing, it is easy to 
enable you to connect the thing with the word. I know, — 1 
desire, — I feel. What is it that is common to all these? 
Knowing and desiring and feeling are not the same, and may 
be distinguished. But they all agree in one fundamental condi- 
tion. Can I know, without knowing that I know ? Can T 
desire, without knowing that I desire? Can I feel, without 
knowing that I feel ? This is impossible. Now this knowing 
that I know or desire or feel, — this common condition of self- 
knowledge, is precisely what is denominated Consciousness. 

[Consciousness is a knowledge solely of what is now and here 
f resent to the mind. . . . Again, Consciousness is a knowledge 
of all that is now and here present to the mind ; every imme- 
diate object of cognition is thus an object of consciousness, and 
every intuitive cognition itself is simply a special form of con- 
sciousness. 

Consciousness comprehends every cognitive act; in other 
words, whatever we are not conscious of, that we do not know. 
. . . The actual modifications — the 'present acts and affections 
of the Ego, are objects of immediate cognition, as themselves 
objects of Consciousness.] — Diss, s^ipp. to Reid, 

So much at present for the adjective of conscious ; now for 
the substantive, subject^ — conscious-subject. Though conscious- 
ness be the condition of all internal phasnomena, still it is itself 
only a phaenomenon ; and, therefore, supposes a subject in which 
it inheres; — that is, supposes something that is conscious, — 
something that manifests itself as conscious. And, since con- 
sciousness comprises within its sphere the whole phasnomena of 
mind, the expression conscious-subject is a brief, but comprehen- 
sive, definition of mind itself. 

I have already informed you of the general meaning of the 
word subject in its philosophical application, — namely, the 
unknown basis of phasnomenal or manifested existence. It is 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 103 

thus, in its application, common equally to the external and to 
the internal worlds. But the philosophers of mind have, in a 
manner, usurped and appropriated this expression to themselves. 
Accordingly, in their hands, the phrases conscious or thinhing 
subject^ and subject simply, mean precisely the same thing ; and 
custom has prevailed " so far, that, in psychological discussions, 
the subject is a term now currently employed, throughout Eu- 
rope, for the mind or thinhing principle. 

Use of the term Subject vindicated, — The question here 
occurs, what is the reason of this employment ? If mind, and 
subject are only convertible terms, why multiply synonyms ? 
Why exchange a precise and proximate expression for a vague 
and abstract generality ? The question is pertinent, and merits 
a reply ; for unless it can be shown that the word is necessary, 
its introduction cannot possibly be vindicated. Now, the utility 
of this expression is founded on two circumstances. The first, 
that it affords an adjective; the second, that the terms subject 
and subjective have opposing relatives in the terms object and 
objective, so that the two pairs of words together enable us to 
designate the primary and most important analysis and antithe- 
sis of philosophy, in a more precise and emphatic manner than 
can be done by any other technical expressions. This will 
require some illustration. 

Terms Subjective and Objective, — Subject, we have seen, is 
a term for that in which the phasnomena revealed to our obser- 
vation inhere ; — what the schoolmen have designated the 
materia in qua. Limited to the mental phsenomena, subject, 
therefore, denotes the mind itself; and subjective, that which 
belongs to, or proceeds from, the thinking subject. Object, on 
the other hand, is a term for that about which the knowing sub- 
ject is conversant, what the schoolmen have styled the materia 
circa quam ; while objective means that which belongs to, or 
proceeds from, the object known, and not from the subject 
knowing ; and thus denotes what is real in opposition to what 
is ideal, — what exists in nature, in contrast to what exists 
merely in the thought of the individual. All knowledge is a 
relation — a relation between that which knows (in scholastic 



104 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

language, the subject in which knowledge inheres), and thai 
which is known (in scholastic language, the object about which 
knowledge is conversant) ; and the contents of every act of 
knowledge are made up of elements, and regulated by laws, 
proceeding partly from its object and partly from its subject. 
Now philosophy proper is principally and primarily the science 
of knowledge ; its first and most important problem being to de- 
termine — What can we hnow"^ that is, what are the conditions 
of our knowing, whether these lie in the nature of the object, 
or in the nature of the subject, of knowledge ? 

[But Philosophy being the Science of knowledge ; and the 
science of knowledge supposing, in its most fundamental and 
thorough-going analysis, the distinction of the subject and object 
of knowledge ; it is evident, that, to philosophy^ the subject of 
knowledge would be, by preeminence. The Subject , and the object 
of knowledge^ by preeminence. The Object, It was, therefore, 
natural that the object and the objective^ the subject and the sub- 
jective^ should be employed by philosophers as simple terms, 
compendiously to denote the grand discrimination about which 
philosophy was constantly employed, and which no others could 
be found so precisely and promptly to express. In fact, had it 
not been for the special meaning given to objective in the 
Schools, their employment in this, their natural relation, would 
probably have been of a much earlier date ; not, however, that 
they are void of ambiguity, and have not been often abusively 
employed. This arises from the following circumstance : — 
The subject of knowledge is, exclusively, the Ego or conscious 
mind. Subject and subjective, considered in themselves, are 
therefore little liable to equivocation. But, on the other hand, 
the object of knowledge is not necessarily a phsenomenon of the 
Non-ego ; for the phaenomena of the Ego itself constitute as 
veritable, though not so various and prominent, objects of cog- 
nition, as the phsenomena of the Non-ego. 

Subjective and objective do not, therefore, thoroughly and ade- 
quately discriminate that which belongs to mind, and that which 
belongs to matter; they do not even competently distinguish 

what is dependent, from what is independent, on the conditiovs 

t 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 105 

of the mental self. But in these significations they are and must 
be frequently employed. Without, therefore, discarding this 
nomenclature, which, so far as it goes, expresses, in general, a 
distinction of the highest importance, in the most apposite 
terms; these terms may, by qualification, easily be rendered 
adequate to those subordinate discriminations, which it is often 
requisite to signalize, but which they cannot si^nply and of them- 
selves denote. 

Subject and subjective^ without any qualifying attribute, 1 
would therefore employ, as has hitherto been done, to mark out 
what inheres in, pertains to, or depends on, the knowing mind, 
whether of man in general, or of this or that individual man in 
particular ; and this in contrast to object and objective^ as ex- 
pressing what does not so inhere, pertain, and depend. Thus, 
for example, an art or science is said to be objective^ when 
considered simply as a system of speculative truths or practical 
rules, but without respect of any actual possessor ; subjective^ 
when considered as a habit of knowledge or dexterity, inherent 
in the mind, either vaguely of any, or precisely of this or that, 
possessor. 

But, as has been stated, an object of knowledge may be a 
mode of mind, or it may be something different from mind; 
and it is frequently of importance to indicate precisely under 
which of these classes that object comes. In this case, by an 
internal development of the nomenclature itself, we might 
employ, on the former alternative, the term subject-object ; on 
the latter, the term object-object. 

But the subject-object may be either a mode of mind, of 
which we are conscious as absolute and for itself alone, — as, 
for example, a pain or pleasure ; or a mode of mind, of which 
we are conscious, as relative to, and representative of something 
else, — as, for instance, the imagination of something past or 
possible. Of these we might distinguish, when necessary, the 
one, as the absolute or the real subject-object, the other, as the 
relative, or the ideal, or the representative, subject-object. 

Finally, it may be required to mark whether the object-object 
and the subject-object be immediately known as present, or only 



106 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

as represented. In this case we must resort, on the former 
alternative, to the epithet presentative or intuitive ; on the lat- 
ter, to those of represented, mediate, remote, 'primary, princi- 
pal, etc,'] — Diss, siipp. to Reid, 

Now, the great problem of philosophy is, to analyze the con- 
tents of our acts of knowledge or cognitions, — to distinguish 
what elements are contributed by the knowing subject, what ele- 
ments by the object known. There must, therefore, be terms 
adequate to designate these correlative opposites, and to dis- 
criminate the share which each has in the total act of cognition. 
But, if we reject the terms subject and subjective, object and 
objective, there are no others competent to the purpose. 

At this stage of your progress, it is not easy to make you 
aware of the paramount necessity of such a distinction, and of 
such terms, — or to show you how, from the want of words ex- 
pressive of this primary antithesis, the mental philosophy of 
[Great Britain] has been checked in its development, and 
involved in the utmost perplexity and misconception. It is suffi- 
cient to remark at present, that to this defect in the language of 
his psychological analysis, is, in a great measure, to be attributed 
the confusion, not to say the errors, of Keid, in the very cardi- 
nal point of his philosophy, — a confusion so great that the 
whole tendency of his doctrine was misconceived by Brown, 
who, in adopting a modification of the hypothesis of a repre- 
sentative perception, seems not even to have suspected, that he, 
and Keid, and modern philosophers in general, were not in this 
at one. The terms subjective and objective denote the primary 
distinction in consciousness of self and not-self, and this dis- 
tinction involves the whole science of mind; for this science is 
nothing more than a determination of the subjective and objec- 
tive, in themselves and in their mutual relations. The distinc- 
tion is of paramount importance, and of infinite application, not 
only in Philosophy proper, but in Grammar, Rhetoric, Criti- 
cism, Ethics, Pohtics, Jurisprudence, Theology. I will give 
you ^an example, — a philological example. Suppose a lexi- 
cographer had to distinguish the two meanings of the word cer- 
tainty. Certainty expresses either the firm conviction which 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. ]07 

we have of the truth of a thing ; or the character of the proof 
on which its reahty rests. The former is the subjective mean- 
ing ; the latter the objective. By what other terms can they be 
distinguisiied and described ? 

History of the terms Subject and Object, — The distinction of 
^subject and object, as marking out the fundamental and most 
thorough-going antithesis in philosophy, we owe, among many 
other important benefits, to the schoolmen, and from the school- 
men the terms passed, both in their substantive and adjective 
forms, into the scientific language of modern philosophers. 
Deprived of these terms, the Critical Philosophy, indeed the 
w^hole philosophy of Germany and France, would be a blank. 
In [Great Britain], though familiarly employed in scientific lan- 
guage, even subsequently to the time of Locke, the adjective 
forms seem at length to have dropt out of the English tongue. 
That these words w^axed obsolete, was, perhaps, caused by the 
ambiguity which had gradually crept into the signification of 
the substantives. Object^ besides its proper signification, came to 
be abusively applied to denote motive^ end,, final cause (a mean- 
ing, by the way, not recognized by Johnson). This innovation 
was probably borrowed from the French, in whose language the 
word had been similarly corrupted, after the commencement of 
the last century. Subject in English, as sujet in French, had 
not been rightly distinguished from object, taken in its proper 
meaning, and had thus returned to the original ambiguity of the 
corresponding term {ynoy.u\itvov) in Greek. It is probable that 
the logical appKcation of the word (subject of predication) 
facilitated or occasioned this confusion. In using the terms, 
therefore, we think that an explanation, but no apology, is re- 
quired. The distinction is expressed by no other terms ; and 
if these did not already enjoy a prescriptive right as denizens 
of the language, it cannot be denied, that, as strictly analogical, 
they are well entitled to sue out their naturalization. We shall 
have frequent occasion to recur to this distinction, — and it is 
eminently w^orthy of your attention. 

Self Ego — illustrated from Plato. ■ — The last parallel ex- 
pressions are the terms self and ego. These we shall take 



108 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

together, as thej are absolutely convertible. As the best prepar- 
ative for the proper understanding of these terms, I shall trans- 
late to you a passage from the First Alcihiades of Plato. The 
interlocutors are Socrates and Alcibiades. 

" Socr, Plold, now, with whom do you at present converse ? 
Is it not with me ? — Alcih, Yes. , 

Socr, And I also with you ? — Alcih, Yes, 

Socr, It is Socrates then who speaks ? — Alcih, Assuredly. 

Socr, And Alcibiades who listens ? — Alcih, Yes. 

Socr, Is it not with language that Socrates speaks ? — Alcih, 
What now ? of course. 

Socr, To converse, and to use language, are not these then 
the same ? — Alcih. The very same. 

Socr, But he who uses a thing, and the thing used, — are 
these not different ? — Alcih, What do you mean ? 

Socr, A currier, — does he not use a cutting knife, and 
other instruments ? — Alcih, Yes. 

Socr, And the man who uses the cutting knife, is he differ- 
ent from the instrument he uses ? — Alcih, Most certainly. 

Socr, In like manner, the lyrist, is he not different from the 
lyre he plays on ? — Alcih, Undoubtedly. 

Socr, This, then, was what I asked you just now, — does not 
he who uses a thing seem to you always different from the thing 
used? — Alcih, Very different. 

Socr, But the currier, does he cut with his instruments alone, 
or also with his hands ? — Alcih, Also with his hands. 

Socr, He then uses his hands- ? — Alcih. Yes. 

Socr, And in his work he uses also his eyes ? — Alcih, Yes. 

Socr, We are agreed, then, that he who uses a thing, and 
the thing used, are different ? — Alcih, We are. 

Socr, The currier and lyrist are, therefore, different from the 
hands and eyes, with which they work ? — Alcih, So it seems. 

Socr, Now, then, does not a man use his whole body ? — ^ 
Alcih, Unquestionably. 

Socr, But we are agreed that he who uses, and that which 
is usee are different ? — Alcih, Yes. 

Socr, A man is, therefore, different from his body ? — Alcih, 
So I think 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 109 

Soar, What then is the man ? — Alcib, I cannot say. 

Socr, You can at least say that the man is that which uses 
the body ? — Alcib, True. 

Socr, Now, does any thing use the body but the mind ? — 
Al'cib. Nothing. 

Socr, The mind is, therefore, the man ? — Alcih, The mind 
alone." 

To the same effect, Aristotle asserts that the mind contains 
the man, not the man the mind. " Thou art the soul," says 
Hierocles, " but the body is thine." 

The Self or Ego in relation to bodily organs^ and thoughts, — 
But let us come to a closer determination of the point ; let us 
appeal to our experience. " I turn my attention on my being " 
[says Gatien-Arnoult], " and find that I have organs, and that 
I have thoughts. My body is .the complement of my organs ; 
am I then my body, or any part of my body ? This I cannot 
be. The matter of my body, in all its points, is in a perpetual 
flux, in a perpetual process of renewal. I, — /do not pass 
away, I am not renewed. None probably of the molecules 
which constituted my organs some years ago, form any part of 
the material system which I now call mine. It has been made 
up anew ; but I am still what I was of old. These organs may 
be mutilated ; one, two, or any number of them may be re- 
moved ; but not the less do I continue to be what I was, one 
and entire. It is even not impossible to conceive me existing, 
deprived of every organ ; I, therefore, who have these organs, 
or this body, /am neither an organ nor a body. 

" Neither am I identical with my thoughts, for they are man- 
ifold and various. I, on the contrary, am one and the same. 
Each moment they change and succeed each other ; this change 
and succession takes place in me, but I neither change nor suc- 
ceed myself in myself. Each moment I am aware or am 
conscious of the existence and change of my thoughts : this 
change is sometimes determined by me, sometimes by some- 
thing different from me ; but I always can distinguish myself 
from them : I am a permanent being, an enduring subject, of 
whose existence these thoughts are only so many modes, ap- 

10 



110 EXPLICATION OF TEKMS. 

pearances, or phenomena ; — I who possess organs and thoughts 
am, therefore, neither these organs nor these thoughts. 

"I can conceive myself to exist apart from every organ. 
But if I try to conceive myself existent without a thought, — 
without some form of consciousness, — I am unable. This or 
that thought may not be perhaps necessary ; but of some thought 
it is necessary that I should be conscious, otherwise I can no 
longer conceive myself to be. A suspension of thought is thus 
a suspension of my intellectual existence ; I am, therefore, 
essentially a thinking, — a conscious being ; and my true 
character is that of an intelligence, — an intelligence served 
by organs." 

But this thought, this consciousness, is possible only in, and 
ihrough, the consciousness of Self. The Self, the I, is recog- 
lized in every act of intelligence, as the subject to which that 
act belongs. It is I that perceive, I that imagine, I that re- 
member, I that attend, I that compare, I that feel, I that desire, 
I that will, I that am conscious. The I, indeed, is only man- 
ifested in one or other of these special modes ; but it is mani- 
fested in them all ; they are all only the phaenomena of the I, 
and, therefore, the science conversant about the phaenomena of 
the mind is, most simply and unambiguously, said to be conver- 
sant about the phaenomena of the /or Ego, 

This Expression, as that which, in many relations, best marks 
and discriminates the conscious mind, has now become familiar 
in every country, with the exception of our own. Why it has 
not been naturalized with us is not unapparent. The French 
have two words for the Ego or I — Je and Moi. The former 
of these is less appropriate as an abstract term, being in sound 
ambiguous ; but le moi admirably expresses what the Germans 
denote, but less felicitously, by their Das Ich, In English, the 
/could not be tolerated ; because in sound it could not be dis- 
tinguished from the word significant of the organ of sight. We 
must, therefore, renounce the term, or resort to the Latin Ego ; 
and this is perhaps no disadvantage, for, as the word is only 
employed in a strictly philosophical relation, it is better that this 
should be distinctly marked, by its being used in that relation 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. Ill 

alone. The term Self is more allowable ; yet still the expres- 
sions Ego and Non-Ego are felt to be less awkward than those 
of Self and Not- Self 

So much in explanation of the terms involved in the defini- 
tion which I gave of Psychology. I now j)roceed, as I pro- 
posed, to the consideration of a few other words of frequent 
occurrence in philosophy, and which it is expedient to explain 
at once, before entering upon discussions in which they will 
continually recur. I take them up without order, except in 
so far as they may be grouped together by their meaning ; 
and the first I shall consider, are the terms hypothesis and 
theory. 

Hypothesis. — When a phaenomenon is presented to us which 
can be explained by no cause within the sphere of our experi- 
ence, we feel dissatisfied and uneasy. A desire arises to escape 
from this unpleasing state ; and the consequence of this desire 
is an effort of the mind to recall the outstanding phaenomenon 
to unity, by assigning it, ad interim, to some cause, or class, to 
which we imagine that it may possibly belong, until w^e shall be 
able to refer it, permanently, to that cause, or class, to which 
we shall have proved it actually to appertain. The judgment 
by which the phenomenon is thus provisorily referred, is called 
an hypothesis, — a supposition. 

Hypotheses have thus no other end than to satisfy the desire 
of the mind to reduce the objects of its knowledge to unity and 
system ; and they do this in recalling them, ad interim, to some 
principle, through which the mind is enabled to comprehend 
them. From this view of their nature it is manifest how far 
they are permissible, and how far they are even useful and 
expedient, — throwing altogether out of account the possibility 
that what is at first assumed as hypothetical, may subsequently 
be proved true. 

Conditions of a legitimate hypothesis. — An hypothesis is 
allowable only under certain conditions. Of these ih^ first is, 
— that the phenomenon to be explained should be ascertained 
actually to exist. It would, for example, be absurd to propose 
an hypothesis to account for the possibility of apparitions, until 



112 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

it be proved that ghosts do actually appear. This precept, to 
establish your fact before you attempt to conjecture its cause, 
may, perhaps, seem to you too elementary to be worth the 
statement. But a longer experience will convince you of the 
contrary. That the enunciation of the rule is not only not 
superfluous, but even highly requisite as an admonition, is 
shown by great and numerous examples of its violation in the 
history of science ; and, as Cullen has truly observed, there are 
more false facts current in the world than false hypotheses to 
explain them. There is, in truth, nothing which men seem to 
admit so lightly as an asserted fact. It would be easy to ad- 
duce extensive hypotheses, very generally accredited, even at 
the present hour, which are, however, nothing better than 
assumptions founded on, or explanatory of, phaenomena which 
do not really exist in nature. 

The second condition of a permissible hypothesis is, — that 
the phsenomenon cannot be explained otherwise than by an 
hypothesis. It would, for example, have been absurd, even 
before the discoveries of Franklin, to account for the phsenom- 
enon of lightning by the hypothesis of supernatural agency. 
These two conditions, of the reality of the phasnomenon, and 
the necessity of an hypothesis for its explanation, being fulfilled, 
an hypothesis is allowable. 

Criteria of the excellence of an hypothesis, — But the neces- 
sity of some hypothesis being conceded, how are we to dis- 
criminate between a good and a bad, — a probable and an 
improbable, hypothesis? The comparative excellence of an 
hypothesis requires, in the first place, that it involve nothing 
contradictory, either internally or externally, — that is, either 
between the parts of which it is composed, or between these 
and any established truths. Thus, the Ptolemaic hypothesis 
of the heavenly revolutions became worthless, from the moment 
that it was contradicted by the ascertained phaenomena of the 
planets Yenus and Mercury. Thus the Wernerian hypothesis 
in geology is improbable, inasmuch as it is obliged to maintain 
that water was originally able to hold in solution substances 
whi^h it is now incapable of dissolving. The Huttonian 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 113 

hypothesis, on the contrary, is so far preferable, that it assumes 
no effect to have been produced by any agent, which that agent 
is not known to be capable of producing. In the seco7id i)\2ice, 
an hypothesis is probable in proportion as the phagnomenon in 
question can be by it more completely explained. Thus the 
Copernican hypothesis is more probable than the Tychonic and 
semi-Tychonic, inasmuch as it enables us to explain a greater 
number of phasnomena. In the third place, an hypothesis is 
probable in proportion as it is independent of all subsidiary 
hypotheses. In this respect, again, the Copernican hypothesis 
is more probable than the Tychonic. For, though both ^ave 
all the phaenomena, the Copernican does this by one principal 
assumption ; whereas the Tychonic is obliged to call in the aid 
of several subordinate suppositions, to render the principal 
assumption available. So much for hypothesis. 

Theory ; Practice, — I shall be more concise in treating of 
the cognate expression, ' — theory. This word is employed by 
English writers in a very loose and improper sense. It is with 
them usually convertible with hypothesis, and hypothesis is 
commonly used as another term for conjecture. Dr. Reid, 
indeed, expressly does this ; he identifies the two words, and 
explains them as philosophical conjectures, as you may see in 
his First Essay on the Intellectual Powers, This is, however, 
wrong ; wrong, in relation to the original employment of tlie 
terms by the ancient philosophers ; and wrong, in relation t(? 
their employment by the philosophers of the moderi^, nations. 

The terms theory and theoretical are properly used in opposi- 
tion to the terms practice and practical ; in this sense they 
were exclusively employed by the ancients ; and in this sense 
they are almost exclusively employed by the continental philos- 
ophers. Practice is the exercise of an art, or the application 
of a science, in hfe, which application is itself an art, for it is 
not every one who is able to apply all he knows ; there being re- 
quired, over and above knowledge, a certain dexterity and skill 
Theory, on thfe contrary, is mere knoAvledge or science. There 
IS a distinction, but no opposition, between theory and practice ; 
each to a certain extent supposes the other. On the one hand, 



114 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

theory is dependent on practiee ; pi*actice must have preceded 
theory ; for theory being only a generahzation of the principles 
on which practice proceeds, these must originally have been 
taken out of, or abstracted from, practice. On the other hand, 
this' is true only to a certain extent; for there is no practice 
without a theory. The man of practice must have always 
known something, however little, of what he did, of what he 
intended to do, and of the means by which his intention was to 
be carried into effect. He was, therefore, not wholly ignorant 
of the principles of his procedure ; he was a limited, he was, 
in some degree, an unconscious, theorist. As he proceeded, 
however, in his practice, and reflected on his performance, his 
theory acquired greater clearness and extension, so that he 
became at last '^distinctly conscious of what he did, and could 
give, to himself and others, an account of his procedure. 

" Per varies usus artem experientia fecit, 
Exemplo monstrante viam." 

In this view, theory is, therefore, simply a knowledge of the 
principles by which practice accomplishes its end. 

The opposition of Theoretical and Practical philosophy is 
somewhat different ; for these do not stand simply related to 
each other as theory and practice. Practical philosophy in- 
volves likewise a theory, — a theory, however, subordinated to 
the practical application of its principles ; while theoretical phi- 
losophy has nothing to do with practice, but terminates in mere 
speculative or contemplative knowledge. 

The next group of associated words to which I would call 
your attention is composed of the terms, — power^ faculty^ ca- 
opacity y disposition^ habit, act, operation, energy, function, etc. 

Power, Reid's criticism of Locke. — Of these the first is 
power, and the explanation of this, in a manner, involves that 
of all the others. 

I have, in the first place, to correct an error of Dr. Reid, in 
relation to this term, in his criticism of Locke's statement of its 
import. — You will observe that I do not, at present, enter on 
the question, How do we acquire the notion of power ? and T 



EXPLICATION OF. TERMS. . 115 

defend the following passage of Locke, only in regard to the 
meaning and comprehension of the term. " The mind," say? 
Locke, " being every day informed, by the senses, of the altera- 
tion of those simple ideas it observes in things without, and 
taking notice how one comes to an end," and ceases to be, and 
another begins to exist which was not before ; reflecting, also, 
on what passes within itself, and observing a constant change of 
its ideas, sometimes by the impression of outward objects on the 
senses, and sometimes by the determination of its own choice ; 
and concluding from what it has so constantly observed to have 
been, that the like changes will, for the future, be made in the 
same things, by hke agents, and by the like ways ; considers, in 
one thing, the possibility of having any of its simple ideas 
changed, and, in another, the possibility of making that change ; 
and so comes by that idea which we call power. Thus we say, 
fire has a power to melt gold, — that is, to destroy the consis- 
tency of its insensible parts, and, consequently, its hardness, 
and make it fluid, and gold has a power to be melted : that the 
sun has a power to blanch wax, and wax a power to be 
blanched by the sun, whereby the yellowness is destroyed, and 
whiteness made to exist in its room. In which, and the like 
cases, the power, we consider, is in reference to the change of 
perceivable ideas ; for we cannot observe any alteration to be 
made in, or operation upon,^any thing, but by the observable 
change of its sensible ideas ; nor conceive any alteration to be 
made, but by conceiving a change of some of its ideas. Power, 
thus considered, is twofold — namely, as able to make, or able 
to receive, any change : the one may be called active j and the 
other passive power." 

Active and Passive Power, — I have here only to call your 
attention to the distinction of power into two kinds, active and 
'passive — the former meaning, id quod potest facere^ that 
which can effect or can do^ — the latter, id quod potest fieri ^ that 
which can he effected or can he done. In both cases, the general 
notion of power is expressed by the verb potest or can. Now, 
on this, Dr. Reid makes the following strictures : " Whereas 
Locke distinguishes power into active and passive, I conceive 



116 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

passive power is no power at all. He means by it, the possi- 
bility of being changed. To call this, power, seems to be a 
misapplication of the word. I do not remember to have met 
with the phrase passive power in any other good author. Mr. 
Locke seems to have been unlucky in inventing it ; and it de- 
serves not to be retained in our language. Perhaps he was 
unwarily led into it, as an opposite to active power. But I con- 
ceive we call certain powers active, to distinguish them from 
other powers that are called speculative. As all mankind dis- 
tinguish action from speculation, it is very proper to distinguish 
the powers by which those different operations are performed 
into active and speculative. Mr. Locke, indeed, acknowledges 
that active power is more properly called power : but I see no 
propriety at all in passive power ; it is a powerless power, and 
a contradiction in terms." 

These observations of Dr. Reid are, I am sorry to say, erro- 
neous from first to last. The latter part, in which he attempts 
to find a reason for Locke being unwarily betrayed into making 
this distinction, is, supposing the distinction untenable, and 
Locke its author, wholly inadequate to account for his hallu- 
cination : for, surely, the powers by which we speculate are, in 
their operations, not more passive than those that have some- 
times been styled active, but which are properly denominated 
practical. But in the censure iteelf on Locke, Reid is alto 
gether mistaken. Li the first place, so far was Locke from 
being unlucky in inventing the distinction, it was invented 
some two thousand years before. In the second place, to call 
the possibility of heing changed a power, is no misapplication of 
the word. Li the third place, so far is the phrase passive power 
from not being employed by any good author, — there is hardly 
a metaphysician, previous to Locke, by whom it was not famil- 
iarly used. In fact, this was one of the most celebrated dis- 
tinctions in philosophy. It was first formally enounced by 
Aristotle, and from him was universally adopted. Active and 
passive power are in Greek styled dvvafug Troir^TiXT], and dvrafAig 
Tta&rjti'Ai] ; in Latin, potentia activa, and potentia passiva. 

Power, therefore, is a word wliich we may use both in an 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 117 

Siciive, and in a passive, signification; and in psychology, wc 
may apply it botli to the actiye faculties, and to the passive 
capacities, of mind. 

Faculty, — This leads to the meaning of the terms faculties 
and capacities. Faculty (^facultas) is derived from the obsolete 
'Lvdmfacul, the more ancient form of facilisy from which again 
facilltas is formed. It is properly limited to active power, and, 
therefore, is abusively applied to the mere passive affections of 
mind. 

Capacity (capacitas), on the other hand, is more properly 
limited to these. Its primary signification, which is literally 
room for^ as well as its employment, favors this ; although it 
cannot be denied, that there are examples of its usage in an 
active sense. Leibnitz, as far as I know, was the first who 
limited its psychological application to the passivities of mind. 
In liis famous Nouveaux Essais sur V Entendement Humain, a 
work written in refutation of Locke's Essay on the same sub- 
ject, he observes : " We may say that power, in general, is the 
possibility of change. Now the change, or the act of this possi- 
bility, being action in one subject and passion in another, there 
will be two powers, the one passive, the other active. The 
active may be called faculty, and perhaps the passive might be 
called capacity, or receptivity. It is true that the active power 
is sometimes taken in a higher sense, when, over and above the 
simple faculty, there is also a tendency, a nisus ; and it is thus 
that I have used it in my dynamical considerations. We might 
give it in this meaning the speciaf name oi force, '^ I may 
notice that Heid seems to have attributed no other meanino: to 
the term power than that of force. 

Power, then, is active and passive ; faculty is active power, 
— capacity is passive power. 

Disposition, Habit, — The two terms next in order, are dis- 
position, in Greek, diad^Eaig ; and liahit, in Greek f |^\ I take 
these together, as they are similar, yet not the same. Both are 
tendencies to action ; but they differ in this, that disposition 
properly denotes a natural tendency, habit an acquired ten- 
dency. Aristotle distinguishes them by another difference* 



118 EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 

" Habit (f'Sfi?) is discriminated from disposition (^didd^saig) in 
this, that the latter is easily jnovable, the former of longer 
duration, and more difficult to be moved/' I may notice that 
iabit is formed by the frequent repetition of the same action or 
passion, and that this repetition is called consuetude, or custom. 
The latter terms, which properly signify the cause, are not un- 
frequently abusively employed for habit, their effect. 

I may likewise observe that the terms power, faculty, capac- 
ity, are more appropriately applied to natural, than to acquired, 
capabilities, and are thus inapplicable to mere habits. I say 
mere habits, for where habit is superinduced upon a natural 
capability, both terms may be used. Thus we can say both the 
faculty of abstraction, and the habit of abstraction, — the ca- 
pacity of suffering, and the habit of suffering; but still the 
meanings are not identical. 

The last series of cognate terms are act^ operation, energy. 
They are all mutually convertible, as all denoting the present 
exertion or exercise of a power, a faculty, or a habit. I must 
here explain to you the famous distinction of actual and poten- 
tial existence ; for, by this distinction, act, operation, energy, are 
contra-discriminated from power, faculty, capacity, disposition, 
and habit. This distinction, when divested of certain subordi- 
nate subtleties of no great consequence, is manifest and simple. 
Potential existence means merely that the thing may he at some 
time; actual existence, that it now is. Thus, the mathema- 
tician, when asleep or playing at cards, does not exercise his 
skill ; his geometrical knowledge is all latent, but he is still a 
mathematician — potentially. ** 

Hermogenes, says Horace, was a singer, even when silent ; 
how ? — a singer, not in actu, but in posse. So Alfenus was a 
cobbler, even when not at work; that is, he was a cobbler 
potential ; whereas, when busy in his booth, he was a cobbler 
actual. 

In like manner, my sense of sight potentially exists, though 
my eyelids are closed ; but when I open them, it exists actually. 
Now, power, faculty, capacity, disposition, habit, are all differ- 
ent expressions for potential or possible existence ; act, opera- 



EXPLICATION OF TERMS. 119 

tton, energy, for actual or present existence. Thus the power 
of imagination expresses the unexerted capability of imagining ; 
the act of imagination denotes that power elicited into imme- 
diate — into present existence. The different synonyms for 
potential existence, are existence ev dvvdfxei, in potentta, in posse, 
in power ; for actual existence, existence Iv tveQyeia, or tv Ivrs- 
lt](^SLa, in actu, in esse, in act, in operation, iji energy. The 
term energy is precisely the Greek term for act of operation ; 
but it has vulgarly obtained the meaning of forcible activity. 

The word functio, in Latin, simply expresses performance or 
operation ; functio muneris is the exertion of an energy of 
some determinate kind. But with us, the word function has 
come to be employed in the sense of munus alone, and means 
not the exercise, but the specific character, of a power. Thus 
the function of a clergyman does, not mean with us the per- 
formance of his duties, but the peculiarity of those duties 
themselves. The function of nutrition does not mean the 
operation of that animal power, but its discrimin^ite character. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHiENOMENA :- SPECIAL CONDI- 
TIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Consciousness compi^ehends all the mental ph(Enomena, — In 
taking a comprehensive survey of the mental phaenomena, these 
are all seen to comprise one essential element, or to be possible 
only under one necessary condition. This element or condition 
is Consciousness, or the knowledge that I, — that the Ego 
exists, in some determinate state. In this knowledge they 
appear, or are realized as phsenomena, and with this knowledge 
they likewise disappear, or have no longer a phaenomenal exist- 
ence ; so that consciousness may be compared to an internal 
light, by means of which, and which alone, what passes in the 
mind is rendered visible. Consciousness is simple, — is not 
composed of parts, either similar or dissimilar. It always 
resembles itself, differing only in the degrees of its intensity ; 
thus, there are not various kinds of consciousness, although 
there are various kinds of mental modes, or states, of which we 
are conscious. Whatever division, therefore, of the mental 
phsenomena may be adopted, all its members must be within 
consciousness itself, which must be viewed as comprehensive of 
the whole phsenomena to be divided ; far less should we reduce 
it, as a special phsenomenon, to a particular class. Let con- 
sciousness, therefore, remain one and indivisible, comprehend- 
ing all the modifications, — all the phsenomena, of the thinking 
subject. 

Three classes of mental phcenomena. — But taking, again, a 

survey of the mental modifications, or phsenomena, of which 

we are conscious, — these are seen to divide themselves into 

THBEE great classes. In the first place, there are the pha3- 

(120) 



DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 121 

noniena of Knowledge ; in the second place, there are the phae- 
nomena of Feeling^ or the phgenomena of Pleasure and Pain ; 
and, in the tliird place, there are the j)hccnomena of Will and 
Desire, 

Let me illustrate this by an example. I see a picture. 
Now, first of all, — I am conscious of perceivmg a certain 
complement of colors and figures, — I recognize what the 
object is. This is the phsenomenon of Cognition or Knowl- 
edge. But this is not the only phsenomenon of which I may 
be here conscious. I may experience certain affections in the 
contemplation of this object. If the picture be a masterpiece, 
the gratification will be unalloyed ; but if it be an unequal pro- 
duction, I shall be conscious, perhaps, of enjoyment, but of 
enjoyment alloyed with dissatisfaction. This is the phaenome- 
non of Feeling, — or of Pleasure and Pain. But these two 
phsenomena do not yet exhaust all of which I may be conscious 
on the occasion. I may desire to see the picture long, — to see 
it often, — to make it my own, and, perhaps, I may will, resolve, 
or determine so to do. This is the complex phaenomenon of 
Will and Desire. 

Their nomenclature, — The English language, unfortunately, 
does not afford us terms competent to express and discriminate, 
with even tolerable clearness and precision, these classes of 
phasnomena. In regard to the Jirst, indeed, we have com- 
paratively little reason to complain ; the synonymous terms, 
knowledge and cognition^ suffice to distinguish the phaenomena 
of this class from those of the other two. In the second class, 
the defect of the language becomes more apparent. The word 
feeling is the only term under w^hich we can possibly collect 
the phaenomena of pleasure, and pain, and yet this word is 
ambiguous. For it is not only employed to denote what we 
are conscious of as ao-reeable or disaorreeable in our mental 
states, but it is likewise used as a synonym for the sense of 
touch. It is, however, principally in relation to the third class 
that the deficiency is manifested. In English, unfortunately, 
we have no term capable of adequately expressing what is 
common both to will and desire ; that is, the nisus or conatus, — 

11 



122 DISTKIBUTIOK OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 

the tendency towards the realization of their end. By will is 
meant a free and deliberate, by desire a blind and fatal, ten- 
dency to act. Now, to express, I say, the tendency to overt 
action, — the quality in which desire and will are equally con- 
tained, — we possess no English term to which an exception of 
more or less cogency may not be taken. Were we to say the 
ohgenomena of tendency^ the phrase would be vague ; and the 
same is true of the phaenomena of doing. Again, the term 
phsgnomena of appetency is objectionable, because (to say noth- 
ing of the unfamiharity of the expression) appetency^ though 
perhaps etymologically unexceptionable, has, both in Latin and 
English, a meaning almost synonymous with desire. Like the 
Latin appetentiaj the Greek oqe^iq is equally ill-balanced ; for, 
though used by philosophers to comprehend both will and 
desire, it more familiarly suggests the latter, and we need not, 
therefore, be solicitous, with Mr. Harris and Lord Monboddo, 
to naturalize in English the term orectic. Again, the phrase 
phaenomena of activity would be even worse ; every possible 
objection can be made to the term active power Sj by which the 
philosophers of this country have designated the orectic facul- 
ties of the Aristotelians. For you will observe, that all facul- 
ties are equally active ; and it is not the overt performance, but 
the tendency towards it, for which we are in quest of an 
expression. The German is the only language I am acquainted 
with which is able to supply the term of which philosophy is in 
want. The expression Bestrehungs Vermogen, which is most 
nearly, though awkwardly and inadequately, translated by striv- 
ing facidtiesj — faculties of effort or endeavor, — is now gen- 
erally employed, in the philosophy of Germany, as the genus^ 
comprehending desire and will. Perhaps the phrase, phasnom- 
ena of exertion^ is, upon the whole, the best expression to denote 
the manifestations, and exertive faculties, the best expression to 
denote the faculties, of will and desire. Exero, in Latin, 
means hterally to put forth ; — and, with us, exertion and ex- 
ertive are the only endurable words that I can find which 
approximate, though distantly, to the strength and precision of 
the German expression. I shall, however, occasionally employ 



OISTKIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 123 

likewise the term appetency^ in the rigorous signification I have 
mentioned, — as a genus comprehending under it both desires 
and voHtions.* 

This division of mind into the three great classes of the Cog- 
nitive faculties, — the Feelings, or capacities of Pleasure and 
Pain, — and the Exertive or Conative Powers, — I do not pro- 
pose as original. It was first promulgated by Kant ; and the 
felicity of the distribution was so apparent, that it has now 
been long all but universally adopted in Germany by the phi- 
losophers of every school. To English psychologists it is 
apparently wholly unknown. They still adhere to the old 
scholastic division into powers of the Understanding and pow- 
ers of the Will ; or, as it is otherwise expressed, into Intel- 
lectual and Active powers. 

Objection to the classification ohviated, — An objection to the 
arrangement may, perhaps, be taken on the ground that the 
three classes are not coordinate. It is evident that every men- 
tal phsenomenon is either an act of knowledge, or only possible 
through an act of knowledge, for consciousness is a knowl- 
edge, — a phasnomenon of cognition ; and, on this principle, 
many philosophers have been led to regard the knowing, or 
representative faculty, as they called it, — the faculty of cogni- 
tion, as the fundamental power of mind, from which all otherj" 
are derivative. . To this the answer is easy. These philoso- 
phers did not observe that, although pleasure and pain, — 
although desire and volition, are only as they are known to be 
yet, in these modifications, a quality, a phsenomenon of mind 
absolutely new, has been superadded, which was never involved 
in, and could, therefor^ never have been evolved out of, the 
mere faculty of knowledge. The faculty of knowledge is cer- 
tainly the first in order, inasmuch as it is the conditio sine qua 
non of the others ; and we are able to conceive a being pos- 
sessed of the power of recognizing existence, and yet wholly 

^ The term Conative (from Conari) is employed by Cudworth in his 
Treatise on Free Will. The terms Conation and Conative are those finally 
adopted by the Author, as the most appropriate expressions for the class of 
phienomena in question. — English Ed. 



124 DISTRIBUTION OF MENTAL PHENOMENA. 

void of all feeling of pain and pleasure, and of all powers of 
desire and volition. On the other hand, we are wholly unable 
to conceive a being possessed of feeling and desire, and, at the 
same time, without a knowledge of any object upon which his 
affections may be employed, and without a consciousness of 
these affections themselves^ 

We can further conceive a being possessed of knowledge and 
feeling alone — a being endowed with a power of recognizing 
objects, of enjoying the exercise, and of grieving at the 
restraint, of his activity, — and yet devoid of that faculty of 
voluntary agency — of that conation^ which is possessed by 
man. To such a being would belong feelings of pain and 
pleasure, but neither desire nor will properly so called. On 
the other hand, however, we cannot possibly conceive the exist- 
ence of a voluntary activity independently of all feeling; for 
voluntary conation is a faculty which can only be determined 
to energy through a pain or pleasure, — through an estimate of 
the relative worth of objects. 

In distinguishing the cognitions, feehngs, and conations, it is 
not, therefore, to be supposed that these phsenomena are possi- 
ble independently of each other. In our philosophical sys- 
tems, they may stand separated from each other in books and 
chapters ; — in nature, they are ever interwoven. In every, 
the simplest, modification of mind, knowledge, feeling, and 
desire or will go to constitute the mental state ; and it is only 
by a scientific abstraction that we are able to analyze the state 
into elements, which are never really existent but in mutual 
combination. These elements are found, indeed, in very vari- 
ous proportions in different states, — sometimes one prepon- 
derates, sometimes another ; but there is no state in which they 
are not all coexistent. 

Let the mental phaenomena, therefore, be distributed under 
the three heads of phaenomena of Cognition, or the faculties of 
Knowledge ; phaenomena of Feeling, or the capacities 'of Pleas- 
ure and Pain ; and phaenomena of Desiring or Willing, or the 
powers of Conation. The order of these is determined by their 
relative consecution. Feeling and appetency suppose knowl- 



CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 125 

edge. The cognitive faculties, therefore, stand first. But as 
will, and desire, and aversion suppose a knowledge of the 
pleasurable and painful, the feelings will stand second as inter- 
mediate between the other two. 

Consciousness cannot he defined, — Such is the highest or 
most general classification of the mental phsenomena, or of the 
phcenomena of which we are conscious. But as these primary 
classes are, as v/e have shown, all included under one universal 
ph^enomenon, — the phaenomenon of Consciousness, — it follows 
that Consciousness must form the first object of our considera- 
tion. 

Nothing has contributed more to spread obscurity over a very 
transparent matter, than the attempts of philosophers to define 
consciousness. Consciousness cannot be defined ; we may be 
ourselves fully aware what consciousness is, but we cannot, 
without confusion, convey to others a definition of what we 
ourselves clearly apprehend. The reason is plain. Conscious- 
ness lies at the root of all knowledge. Consciousness is itself 
the one highest source of all comprehensibility and illustration ; 
— how, then, can we find aught else by which consciousness 
may be illustrated or comprehended ? To accomplish this, it 
would be necessary to have a second consciousness, through 
which we might -be conscious of the mode in wliich the first 
consciousness was possible. Many philosophers, — and among 
others Dr. Brown, — have defined consciousness a feeling. 
But how do they define a feeling ? They define, and must 
define it, as something of which we are conscious ; for a feeling 
of which we are not conscious, is no feeling at all. Here, 
therefore, they are guilty of a logical see-saw or circle. They 
define consciousness by feeling, and feeling by consciousness, — 
that is, they explain the same by the same, and thus leave us 
in the end no wiser than we were in the beginning. Other 
philosophers say that consciousness is a hnowledgcj — and others 
again, that it is a belief or conviction of a knowledge. Here, 
again, we have the same violation of logical law. Is there any 
knowledge of which we are not conscious ? Is there any belief 
of which we are not conscious ? There is not, — there cannot 

11* 



126 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

be ; tlierefore, consciousness is not contained under either 
knowledge or belief, but on the contrary, knowledge and be- 
lief are both contained under consciousness. In short, the 
notion of consciousness is so elementary, that it cannot possibly 
be resolved into others more simple. It cannot, therefore, be 
brought under any genus, — any more general conception ; 
and, consequently, it cannot be defined. 

But though consciousness cannot be logically defined, it may, 
however, be philosophically analyzed. This analysis is effected 
by observing and holding fast the phaenomena or facts of con- 
sciousness, comparing these, and, from this comparison, evolving 
the universal conditions under which alone an act of conscious- 
ness is possible. 

What the word consciousness denotes^ and what it involves, — 
But before proceeding to show in detail what the act of con- 
sciousness comprises, it may be proper, in the first place, to 
recall in general what kind of act the word is employed to 
denote. I know ^ If^^^^ I desire, etc. What is it that is neces- 
sarily involved in all these ? It requires only to be stated to be 
admitted, that when I know, I must know that I know, — when 
I feel, I must know that I feel, — when I desire, I must know 
that I desire. The knowledge, the feeling, the desire, are pos- 
sible only under the condition of being known, and being known 
by me. For if I did not know that I knew, I would not know, 
— if I did not know that I felt, I would not feel, — if I did 
not know that I desired, I would not desire. Now, this knowl- 
edge, which I, the subject, have of these modifications of my 
being, and through which knowledge alone these modifications 
are possible, is what we call consciousness. The expressions, 
I know that 1 know, — / know that I feel, — / knoiu that I de- 
sire, — are thus translated by, I am conscious that I know, — 2 
am conscious that I feel, — lam conscious that T desire. Con- 
sciousness is thus, on the one hand, the recognition by the mhid 
or ego of its acts and affections ; — in other words, the self- 
affirmation, that certain modifications are known by me, and 
that these modifications are mine. But on the other hand, 
consciousness is not to be viewed as any thing different from 



CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 127 

these modifications themselves, but is, in fact, the general con- 
dition of their existence, or of their existence within the sphere 
of intelligence. Though the simplest act of mind, conscious- 
ness thus expresses a relation subsisting between two terms. 
These terms are, on the one hand, an I or Self, as the subject 
of a certain modification, — and, on the other, some modifica- 
tion, state, quality, affection, or operation belonging to the sub- 
ject. Consciousness, thus, in its simplicity, necessarily involves 
three things, — 1°, A recognizing or knowing subject ; 2°, A 
recognized or known modification ; and, 3°, A recognition or 
knowledge by the subject of the modification. 

Consciousness and knowledge involve each other, — From this 
it is apparent, that consciousness and knowledge each involve 
the other. An act of knowledge may be expressed by the 
formula, I know ; an act of consciousness by the formula, I know 
that I know : but as it is impossible for us to know without at 
the same time knowing that we know, so it is impossible to know 
that we know without our actually knowing. The one merely 
explicitly expresses what the other implicitly contains. Con- 
sciousness and knowledge are thus not opposed as really differ- 
ent. Why, then, it may be asked, employ two terms to express 
notions, which, as they severally infer each other, are really 
identical ? To this the answer is easy. Kealities may be in 
themselves inseparable, while, as objects of our knowledge, it 
may be necessary to consider them apart. Notions, likewise, 
nay severally imply each other, and be inseparable, even in 
bought ; yet, for the purposes of science, it may be requisite to 
distinguish them by different terms, and to consider them in 
4ieir relations or correlations to each other. Take a geometri- 
cal example, — a triangle. This is a whole composed of cer- 
tain parts. Here the whole cannot be conceived as separate 
from its parts, and the parts cannot be conceived as separate 
from their whole. Yet it is scientifically necessary to liaA^e 
diff-erent names for each, and it is necessary now to consider 
the whole in relation to the parts, and now the parts in correla- 
tior to the whole. Again, the constituent parts of a triangle 
are ddes and angles. Here the sides suppose the angles. — 



128 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

the angles suppose the sides ; — and, in fact, the sides and angles 
are, in themselves, in reality, one and indivisible. But they 
are not the same to us, — to our knowledge. For though we 
cannot abstract in thought the sides from the angle, the angle 
from the sides, we may make one or other the principal object 
of attention. We may either consider the angles in relation to 
each other, and to the sides ; or the sides in relation to eac^ 
other, and to the angles. And to express all this, it is neces 
sary to distinguish, in thought and expression, what, in nature, 
is one and indivisible. 

As it is in geometry, so it is in the philosophy of mind. Wc 
require different words, not only to express objects and relations 
different in themselves, but to express the sam^ objects and re- 
lations under the different points of view in ifliich they are 
placed by the mind, when scientifically considering them. Thus, 
in the present instance, consciousness and knowledge are not 
distinguished by different words as different things, but only as 
the same thing considered in different aspects. The verbal dis- 
tinction is taken for the sake of brevity and pre<jision, and its 
convenience warrants its establishment. Knowledge is a rela- 
tion^ and every relation supposes two terms. Thus* in the rela 
tion in question, there is, on the one hand, a subject of knowl- 
edge, — that is, the knowing mind, — and on the other, there i? 
an object of knowledge, — that is, the thing known; and the 
knowledge itself is the relation between these two terms. Now. 
though each term of a relation necessarily supposes the other 
nevertheless one of these terms may be to us the more inter- 
esting, and we may consider that term as the principal, and view 
the other only as subordinate and correlative. Now, this is the 
case in the present instance. In an act of knowledge, my atten- 
tion may be principally attracted either to the object known, 
or to myself as the subject knowing ; and, in the latter case, 
although no new element be added to the act, the condition 
involved in it, — / know that I know, — becomes the primary 
and prominent matter of consideration. And when, as in 
the philosophy of mind, the act of knowledge comes to be 
Bpecially considered in relation to the knowing subject, it 



CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 12D 

is at last, in the progress of the science, found convenient, if not 
absolutely necessary, to possess a scientific word in which 
this point of view should be permanently and distinctively em- 
bodied. 

History of the term consciousness, — But, as the want of a 
technical and appropriate expression could be experienced only 
after psychological abstraction had acquired a certain stability 
and importance, it is evident that the appropriation of such an 
expression could not, in any language, be of very early date. 
And this is shown by the history of the synonymous terms for 
consciousness in the different languages, — a history which, 
though curious, you will find noticed in no publication what- 
ever. The employment of the word conscientia, of which our 
term consciousness is a translation, is, in its psychological signi- 
fication, not older than the philosophy of Descartes. Pre- 
viously to him, this word was used almost exclusively in the 
ethical sense, expressed by our term conscience; and in the 
striking and apparently appropriate dictum of St. Augustin, — 
" certissima scientia et clamante conscientia," — which you 
may find so frequently paraded by the Continental philosophers, 
when illustrating the certainty of consciousness, in that quo- 
tation, the term is, by its author, appKed only in its moral 
or religious signification. Besides the moral application, the 
words conscire and conscientia were frequently employed to 
denote participation in a common knowledge. Thus the mem- 
bers of a conspiracy were said conscire ; and conscius is even 
used for conspirator ; and, metaphorically, this community of 
knowledge is attributed to inanimate objects, — as wailing to 
the rocks, a lover tsays of himself, — 

" Et conscia saxa fatigo." 

I would not, however, be supposed to deny that these words 
were sometimes used, in ancient Latinity, in the modern sense 
of consciousness, or being conscious. 

Until Descartes, therefore, the Latin terms conscire and con- 
scientia w(^.re very rarely usurped in their present psychological 
meaning, — a meaning which, it is needless to add, was no^ 



130 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

expressed by any term in the vulgar languages ; for, besides 
TertuUian, I am aware of only one or two obscure instances in 
which, as translations of the Greek terms Gwaiad^dvoiiai and 
Gvvaio^hioig, of which we are about to speak, the terms coyiscio 
and conscientia were, as the nearest equivalents, contorted 
from their established signification to the sense in which they 
were afterwards employed by Descartes. Thus, in the phi- 
losophy of the West, we may safely affirm that, prior to Des- 
cartes, there was no psychological term in recognized use . for 
what, since his time, is expressed in philosophical Latinity by 
conscientia^ in French by conscience, in English by conscious- 
ness, in Italian by conscienza, and in German by Bewusstseyn, 
It will be observed that in Latin, French, and Italian (and I 
might add the Spanish and other Romanic languages), the 
terms are analogous, the moral and psychological meaning 
being denoted by the same word. 

No term for consciousness in Greek until the decline of phi- 
losophy, — In Greek, there was no term for consciousness until 
the decline of philosophy, and in the later ages of the lan- 
guage. Plato and Aristotle, to say nothing of other philoso- 
phers, had no special term to express the knowledge which the 
mind affords of the operations of its faculties, though this, of 
course, was necessarily a frequent matter of their considera- 
tion. Intellect was supposed by them to be cognizant of its 
own operations ; it was only doubted whether by a direct or by 
a reflex act. In regard to sense, the matter was more per- 
plexed ; and, on this point, both philosophers seem to vacillate 
in their opinions. In his Thecetetus, Plato accords to sense the 
power of perceiving that it perceives ; whereas, in his Char- 
mides^ this power he denies to sense, and attributes to intelli- 
gence {vovg). In like manner, an apparently different doctrine 
may be found in different works of Aristotle. But what con- 
cerns us at present, in all these discussions by the two philoso- 
phers, there is no single term employed to denote that special 
aspect of the phaenomenon of knowledge, which is thus by 
them made a matter of consideration. It is only under the 
later Platonists and Aristotelians, that peculiar terms, tanta- 



CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 131 

mount to our consciousness, were adopted into the language of 
philosophy. 

The special conditions of consciousness. — But to return from 
our historical digression. We may lay it down as the most 
general characteristic of consciousness, that it is the recognition hy 
the thinking subject of its own acts or affections. So far there 
is no difference and no dispute. In this all philosophers are 
agreed. The more arduous task remains of determining the 
special conditions of consciousness. Of these, likewise, some 
are almost too palpable to admit of controversy. Before prO' 
ceeding to those in regard to which there is any doubt or diffi- 
culty, it will be proper, in the first place, to state and dispose 
of such determinations as are too palpable to be called in ques- 
tion. Of these admitted limitations, the j^r^^ is, that conscious- 
ness is an actual, and not a potential, knowledge. Thus, a man 
is said to know, — i. e, is able to know, that 7 -[- 9 are =;:: 1 6, 
though that equation be not, at the moment, the object of his 
thought ; but we cannot say that he is conscious of this truth 
miless while actually present to his mind. 

The second limitation is, that consciousness is an immediate^ 
not a mediate, knoioledge. We are said, for example, to know a 
past occurrence when we represent it to the mind in an act of 
memory. We know the mental representation, and this we do 
immediately and in itself, and are also said to know the past 
occurrence, as mediately knowing it through the mental modifi- 
cation which represents it. Now, we are conscious of the 
representation as immediately known, but we cannot be said to 
be conscious of the thing represented, which, if known, is only 
known through its representation. If, therefore, mediate knowl- 
edge be in propriety a knowledge, consciousness is not coexten- 
sive with knowledge. This is, however, a problem we are 
hereafter specially to consider. I may here also observe, 
that, while all philosophers agree in making consciousness 
an immediate knowledge, some, as Reid and Stewart, do not 
admit that all immediate knowledge is consciousness. They 
hold that we have an immediate knowledge of external ob- 
iects, but they hold that these objects are beyond the sphere 



132 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

of consciousness. This is an opinion we are, likewise, soon to 
canvass. 

The third condition of consciousness, which may be held as 
universally admitted, is, that it supposes a contrast^ — a discrim- 
ination ; for yve can be conscious only inasmuch as we are 
conscious of something; and we are conscious .of something 
only inasmuch as we are conscious of what that something is, — 
that is, distinguish it from what it is not. This discrimination 
is of different kinds and degrees. 

This discrimination of various kinds and degrees. — In the 
first place, there is the contrast between the two grand opposites, 
self and not-self — ego and non-ego, — mind and matter (the 
contrast of subject and object is more general). We are con- 
scious of self only in and by its contradistinction from not-self; 
and are conscious of not-self only in and by its contradistinc- 
tion from self. In the second place, there is the discrimination 
of the states or modifications of the internal subject or self from 
each other. We are conscious of one mental state only as we 
contradistinguish it from another; where two, three, or more 
such states are coixfounded, we are conscious of them as one ; 
and were we to note no difference in our mental modifications, 
we might be said to be absolutely unconscious. Hobbes has 
truly said, " Idem semper sen tire, et non sentire, ad idem reci- 
dunt ; " [To have always the same sensation, and not to have 
any sensation at all, amotmt to the same thing.] In the third 
place, there is the distinction between the parts and qualities of 
the outer world. We are conscious of an external object only 
as we are conscious of it as distinct from others ; — where sev- 
eral distinguishable objects are confounded, we are conscious of 
them as one ; where no object is discriminated, we are not con- 
scious of any. Before leaving this condition, I may parenthet- 
ically state, that, while all philosophers admit that consciousness 
involves a discrimination, many do not allow it any cognizance 
of aught beyond the sphere of self. The great majority of 
philosophers do this because they absolutely deny the possibility 
of an immediate knowledge of external things, and, conse- 
quently, hold that consciousness in distinguishing the non-ego 



CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUS.nESS. 133 

from the ego, only distinguishes self from self; for they main- 
tain, that what we are conscious of as something different from 
the perceiving mind is only, in reality, a modification of that 
mind, which we are condemned to mistake for the material 
reality. Some philosophers, however, (as Reid and Stewart,) 
who hold, with mankind at large, that we do possess an imme- 
diate knowledge of something different from the knowing self, 
still limit consciousness to a cognizance of self; and, conse- 
quently, not only deprive it of the power of distinguishing 
external objects from each other, but even of the power of 
discriminating the ego and non-ego. These opinions we are 
afterwards to consider. With this qualification, all philosophers 
may be viewed as admitting that discrimination is an essential 
condition of consciousness. 

The fourth condition of consciousness, which may be assumed 
as very generally acknowledged, is, that it involves judgment, 
A judgment is the mental act by which one thing is affirmed or 
denied of another. This fourth condition is, in truth, only a 
necessary consequence of the third ; — for it is impossible to 
discriminate without judging, — discrimination, or contradistinc- 
tion, being in fact only the denying one thing of another. It 
may to some seem strange that consciousness,' the simple and 
primary act of intelligence, should be a judgment, — which 
philosophers, in general, have viewed as a compound and deriv- 
ative operation. This is, however, altogether a mistake. A 
judgment is, as I shall hereafter show you, a simple act of 
mind, for every act of mind implies a judgment. Do we per- 
ceive or imagine, without affirming, in the act, the external or 
internal existence of the object ? Now these fundamental 
aflftrmations are the affirmations, — in other words, the judg- 
ments, of consciousness. 

The ffth undeniable condition of consciousness is memory. 
This condition, also, is a corollary of the third. For without 
memory, our mental states could not^ be held fast, compared, 
distinguished from each other, and referred to self. Without 
memory, each indivisible, each infinitesimal, moment in the 
mental succession would stand isolated from every other, — 

12 



134 CONDITIONS OF CONSCIOUSNESS 

would constitute, in fact, a separate existence. The notion of 
the ego or self arises from the recognized permanence and 
identity of the thinking subject, in contrast to the recognized 
succession and variety of its modifications. But this recogni- 
tion is possible only through memory. The notion of self is, 
therefore, the result of memory. . But the notion of self is in- 
volved in consciousness; so, consequently, is memory. 



CHAPTER IX. 

CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 

So far as we have proceeded, our determination of the eon- 
tents of consciousness may be viewed as that universally 
admitted. Let us, therefore, sum up the points we have estab- 
lished. We have shown, in general, that consciousness is the 
self-recognition that we know, or feel, or desire, etc. "We have 
shown, in particular, 1°, That consciousness is an actual or 
living, and not a potential or dormant, knowledge ; — 2°, That 
it is an immediate, and not a mediate, knowledge ; — 3°, That it 
supposes a discrimination ; — 4°, That it involves a judgment ; — 
and, 5°, That it is possible only through memory. 

We are now about to enter on a more disputed territory ; 
and the first thesis I shall attempt to establish, involves several 
subordinate questions. 

Our consciousness coextensive with our Icnowledge. — I state, 
then, as the first contested position which I am to maintain, 
that our consciousness is coextensive with our knowledge. But 
this assertion, that we have no knowledge of which we are not 
conscious, is tantamount to the other, that consciousness is coex- 
tensive with our cognitive faculties, — and this, again, is con- 
vertible with the assertion, that consciousness is not a special 
faculty, but that our special faculties of knowledge are only 
modifications of consciousness. The question, therefore, may 
be thus stated, — Is consciousness the genus under which our 
several faculties of knowledge are contained as species, — or, is 
consciousness itself a special faculty coordinate with, and not 
comprehending, these ? 

By Hutcheson, Reid, and Stewart, — to say nothing of infe- 
consciousness has been considered as nothing 

(135) 



136 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 

Iiiglier than a special faculty. As I regard this opinion to be 
erroneous, and as the error is one affecting the very cardinal 
point of philosophy, — as it stands opposed to the peculiar and 
most important principles of the philosophy of Reid and Stew- 
art themselves, and has even contributed to throw around their 
doctrine of perception an obscurity that has caused Dr. Brown 
absolutely to mistake it for its converse, and as I have never 
met with any competent refutation of the grounds on which it 
rests, — I shall endeavor to show you that, notwithstanding the 
high authority of its supporters, this opinion is altogether un- 
tenable. 

Reid and Stewart on consciousness, — As I previously stated, 
neither Dr. Reid nor Mr. Stewart has given us any regular 
account of consciousness ; their doctrine on this subject is to be 
found scattered in differents parts of their works. The two fol- 
lowing brief passages of Reid contain the principal positions of 
that doctrine. The first is : " Consciousness is a word used 
by philosophers to signify that immediate knowledge which we 
have of our present thoughts and purposes, and, in. general, of 
all the present operations of our minds. Whence we may ob- 
serve, that consciousness is only of things present. To apply 
consciousness to things past, which sometimes is done in popu- 
lar discourse, is to confound consciousness with memory ; and 
all such confusion of words ought to be avoided in philosophical 
discourse. It is likewise to be observed, that consciousness is 
only of things in the mind, and not of external things. It is 
improper to say, I am conscious of the table which is before 
me. 1 perceive it, I see it ; but do not say I am conscious of 
it. As that consciousness, by which we have a knowledge of 
the operations of our own minds, is a different power frohi that 
by which we perceive external objects, and as these different 
powers have different names in our language, and, I believe, in 
all languages, a philosopher ought carefully to preserve this 
distinction, and never to confound things so different in their 
nature." The second is : " Consciousness is an operation of the 
understanding of its own kind, and cannot be logically defined. 
The objects of it are our present pains, our pleasures, our 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 137 

hopes, our fears, our desires, our doubts, our thoughts of every 
knid ; in a word, all the passions and all the actions and opera- 
tions of our own minds, while they are present. We may 
remember them when they are past ; but we are conscious of 
them only while they are present." Besides what is thus said 
in general of consciousness, in his treatment of the different 
special faculties, Reid contrasts consciousness with each. Thus, 
in his essa'ys on Perception, on Conception or Imagination, and 
on Memory, he specially contradistinguishes consciousness from 
each of these operations ; and it is also incidentally by Reid, 
but more articulately by Stewart, discriminated from Attention 
and Reflection. 

According to the doctrine of these philosophers, conscious- 
ness is thus a special faculty, coordinate with the other intel- 
lectual powers, having like them a .particular operation and a 
peculiar object. And what is the peculiar object which is pro- 
posed to consciousness ? The peculiar objects of consciousness, 
says Dr. Reid, are all the present passions and operations of our 
minds. Consciousness thus has for its objects, among the other 
modifications of the mind, the acts of our cognitive faculties. 
Now here a doubt arises. If consciousness has for its object 
the co'gnitive operations, it must know these operations, and, as 
it knows these operations^ it must know their objects: conse- 
quently, consciousness is either not a special faculty, but a fac- 
ulty comprehending every cognitive act ; * or it must be held 

* [ We know ; and We know that we know : — these propositions, logically 
distinct, are really identical; each implies the other. The attempt to 
analyze \hQ aogmtion I know ^ and the cogmtion I know that I know, into the 
separate energies of distinct faculties, is therefore vain. But this is the 
analysis of Reid. Consciousness, which the formula / know that I know 
adequately expresses, he views as a power specifically distinct from the 
various cognitive faculties comprehended under the formula / know, pre- 
cisely as these faculties are severally contradistinguished from each other. 
But here the parallel does not hold. I can feel without perceiving, I can 
perceive without imagining, I can imagine without remembering, I can 
remember without judging (in the emphatic signification), I can judge with- 
out willing. One of these acts does not immediately suppose the other 
Though modes merely of the same indivisible subject, they are mod^.s in 

12=^ 



138 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SrFXJIAL FACULTY. 

that there is a douhle knowledge of every object^ — f^^i-, tlie 
knowledge of that object by its particular faculty, Siud second, a 
knowledge of it by consciousness, as taking cognizance of every 
mental operation. But the former of these alternatives is a 
surrender of consciousness as a coordinate and special faculty, 
and the latter is a supposition not only unphilosophical but 
absurd. Now, you will attend to the mode in which Reid 
escapes, or endeavors to escape, from this dilemma. This he 
does by assigning to consciousness, as its object, the various 
intellectual operations to the exclusion of their several objects. 
" I am conscious," he says, " of perception, but not of the 
object I perceive ; I am conscious of memory, but not of the 
object I remember." By this limitation, if tenable, he cer- 
tainly escapes the dilemma, for he would thus disprove the 
truth of the principle on which it proceeds — namely, that to be 
conscious of the operation of a faculty is, in fact, to be con- 
scious of the object of that operation. The whole question, 
therefore, turns upon the proof or disproof of this principle ; — 
for if it can be shown that the knowledge of an operation neces- 
sarily involves the knowledge of its object, it follows that it is 
impossible to make consciousness conversant about the intel- 
lectual operations to the exclusion of their objects. And that 
this principle must be admitted, is what, I hope, it will require 
but little argument to demonstrate. 

relation to each other, really distinct, and admit, therefore, of psychological 
discrimination. But can I feel without being conscious that I feel 1 — can 
I remember, without being conscious that I remember ? or, can I be con- 
scious, without. being conscious that I perceive, or imagine, or reason, — 
that I energize, in short, in some determinate mode, which Reid would view 
as the act of a faculty specifically different from consciousness ? That tliis 
is impossible, Reid himself admits. But if, on the one hand, consciousness 
be only realized under specific modes, and cannot therefore exist apart from 
the several faculties in cumulo ; and if, on the other, these faculties can all 
and each only be exerted under the condition of consciousness ; conscious- 
ness, consequently, is not one of the special modes into which our mental 
"activity may be resolved, but the fundamental form, — the generic condi- 
tion of them all. Every intelligent act is thus a modified consciousness; 
and consciousness a comprehensive term for the complement of our cogni- 
tive energies.] — Discussions. 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 139 

No consciousness of a cognitive act without a consciousness 
of its ohjecf, — Some things can be conceived by the mind each 
separate and alone ; others, only in connection with something 
else. The former are said to be things absolute ; the latter, to 
be things relative. Socrates and Xanthippe may be given as 
examples of the former ; husband and wife, of the latter. 
Socrates and Xanthippe can each be represented to the mind 
without the other ; and, if they are associated in thought, it is 
only by an accidental connection. Husband and wife, on the 
contrary, cannot be conceived apart. As relative and correla- 
tive, the conception of husband involves the conception of wife, 
and the conception of wife involves the conception of husband. 
Each is thought only in and through the other, and it is impos- 
sible to think of Socrates as the husband of Xanthippe, without 
thinking of Xanthippe as the wife of Socrates. We cannot, 
therefore, know what a husband is without also knowing what 
is a wife, as, on the other hand, we cannot know what a wife is 
without also knowing what is a husband. You will, therefore, 
understand from this example, the meaning of the logical 
axiom, that the knowledge of relatives is one^ — or that the 
knowledge of relatives is the same. 

This being premised, it is evident that, if our intellectual 
operations exist only in relation, it must be impossible that con- 
sciousness can take cognizance of one term of this relation, with- 
out also taking cognizance of the other. Knowledge^ in general, 
is a relation between a subject knowing and an object known, .and 
each operation of our cognitive faculties only exists by rela- 
tion to a particular object, — this object at once calling it into 
existence, and specifying the quality of its existence. It is, 
therefore, palpably impossible that we can be ^conscious of an 
act without being conscious of the object to which that act is 
relative.* This, however, is what Dr. Reid and Mr. Stewart 

^ [The assertion, that we can be conscious of an act of knowledge, with- 
out being conscious of its object, is virtually suicidal. A mental operation 
is what it is, only by relation to its object ; the object at once determining 
its existence, and specifying the character of its existence. But if a relation 
cannot be comprehended in one of its terms, so we cannot be conscious of 



110 COXSOIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 

maintain. Tiiey maintain that I can know that 1 know, with- 
out knowing what I know, — or that I can know the knowledge 
without knowing what the knowledge is about ; for example, 
that I am conscious of perceiving a book without being con- 
scious of the book perceived, — that I am conscious of remem- 
bering its contents, without being conscious of these contents 
yemembered, — and so forth. The unsoundness of this opinion 
must, however, be articulately shown by taking the different 
faculties in detail, which they have contradistinguished from 
consciousness, and by showing, in regard to each, that it is alto- 
gether impossible to propose the operation of that faculty to the 
consideration of consciousness, and to withhold from conscious- 
ness its object. 

Imagination, — I shall commence with the faculty of Imagi- 
nation, to which Dr. Reid and Mr. Stewart have chosen, under 
various limitations, to give [erroneously] the name of Concep- 
tion. This faculty is peculiarly suited to evince the error of 
holding that consciousness is cognizant of acts, but not of the 
objects of these acts. 

" Conceiving, Imagining, and Apprehending," says Dr. Reid, 
" are commonly used as synonymous in our language, and sig- 
nify the same thing which the logicians call Simple Apprehen- 

an operation, without being conscious of the object to which it exists only as 
correlative. For example, — We are conscious of a perception, says Reid, 
but are not conscious of its object. Yet how can we be conscious of s^ per- 
ception, that is, how can we know that a perception exists, — that it is a per- 
ception, and not another mental state, — and that it is the perception of a 
rose, and of nothing but a rose ; unless this consciousness involve a knowl- 
edge (or consciousness) of the object, which at once determines the exist- 
ence of the act, — specifies its kind, — and distinguishes its individuality ^ 
Annihilate the object, you annihilate the operation ; annihilate the con- 
sciousness of the object, you annihilate the consciousness of the operation. 
In the greater number indeed of our cognitive energies, the two terms of 
the relation of knowledge exist only as identical ; the object admitting only 
of a logical discrimination from the subject. I imagine a Hippogryph. 
The Hippogryph is at once the object of the act and the act itself. Ab- 
stract the one, the other has no existence : deny me the consciousness of the 
Hippogryph you den^^ me the consciousness of the imagination; I am 
conscious of zero ; I am not conscious at all.] — Discussions. 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. xil 

sion. This is an operation of the mind different from all those 
we have mentioned [Perception, Memory, etc.]. Whatever we 
perceive, whatever we remember, whatever we are conscious 
of, we have a full persuasion or conviction of its existence. 
What never had an existence cannot be remembered ; what 
has no existence at present cannot be the object of perception 
or of consciousness ; but what never had, nor has any exist- 
ence, may be conceived. Every man knows that it is as easy 
to conceive a winged horse or a centaur, as it is to conceive a 
horse or a man. Let it be observed, therefore, that to con- 
ceive, to imagine, to apprehend, when taken in the proper sense, 
signify an act of the mind which implies no belief or judgment 
at all. It is an act of the mind by which nothing is affirmed or 
denied, and which, therefore, can neither be true nor false." 
And again : " Consciousness is employed solely about objects 
that do exist, or have existed. But conception is often em- 
ployed about objects that neither do, nor did, nor will, exist. 
This is the very nature of this faculty, that its object, though 
distinctly conceived, may have no existence. Such an object 
we call a creature of imagination, but this creature never was 
created. 

" That we may not impose upon ourselves in this matter, we 
must distinguish between that act or operation of the mind, 
which we call conceiving an object, and the object which we 
conceive. When we conceive any thing, there is a real act or 
operation of the mind ; of this we are conscious, and can have 
no doubt of its existence. But every such act must have an 
object ; for he that conceives must conceive something. Sup- 
pose he conceives a centaur, he may have a distinct conception 
of this object, though no centaur ever existed." And again : 
" I conceive a centaur. This conception is an operation of the 
mind of which I am conscious, and to which I can attend. The 
sole object of it is a centaur, an animal which, I believe, never 
existed." 

Now, here it is admitted by Reid, that imagination has an 
object, and, in the example adduced, that this object has no 
existence out of the mind. The object of imagmation is, there 



142 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY 

fore, in the mind^ — is a modification of the mind. Now, can 
it be maintained that there can be a modification of mind, — a 
modification of which we are aware, but of which we are not 
i»9nscious? But let us regard vthe matter in another aspect. 
We are conscious, says Dr. Reid, of the imagination of a cen- 
taur^ but not of the centaur imagined. Now, nothing can be 
more evident than that the object and the act of imagination 
are identical. Thus, in the example alleged, the centaur 
imagined, and the act of imagining it, are one and indivisible. 
What is the act of imagining a centaur but the centaur imaged, 
or the image of the centaur ; what is the image of the centaur 
but the act of imagining it? The centaur is both the object 
and the act of imagination : it is the same thing viewed in 
different relations. It is called the object of imagination, when 
considered as representing a possible existence ; — for ever j 
thing that can be construed to the mind, every thing that does 
not violate the laws of thought, in other w^ords, every thing 
that does not involve a contradiction, may be conceived by 
the mind as possible.* I say, therefore, that the centaur is 

* [Reid says, "The sole object of conception (imagination) is an animal 
'vhich I believe never existed." It * never existed ; ' that is, never really, 
never in nature, never externally, existed. But it is * an object of imagina- 
tion/ It is not, therefore, a mere non-existence ; for if it had no kind of 
existence, it could not possibly be the positive object of any kind of 
thought. For were it an absolute nothing, it could have no qualities {non- 
entis nulla sunt attrihuta) ; but the object we are conscious of, as a Centaur, 
has qualities, — qualities which constitute it a determinate something, and 
distinguish it from every other entity whatsoever. We must, therefore, per 
force, allow it some sort of imaginary, ideal, representative, or (in the older 
meaning of the term) objective, existence in the mind. Now this exist- 
ence can only be one or other of two sorts ; for such object in the mind 
either is, or is not, a mode of mind. Of these alternatives the latter cannot 
be supposed ; for this would be an affirmation of the crudest kind of non- 
egoistical representation — the very hypothesis against which Reid so 
strenuously contends. The former alternative remains — that it is a mode 
of the imagining mind, — that it is, in fact, the plastic act of imagination, 
considered as representing to itself a certain possible form — a Centaur. 
But then Keid's assertion — that there is always an object distinct from the 
operation of the mind conversant about it, the act being one thing, the 
object of the act another — must bo surrendered. For the object and the 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 143 

called the object of imagination, when considered as repre- 
senting a possible existence ; whereas the centaur is called 
the act of imagination, when considered as the creation, work, 
or operation, of the mind itself. The centaur imagined and 
the imagination of the centaur are thus as much the same indi- 
visible modification of mind, as a square is the same figure, 
whether we consider it as composed of four sides, or as composed 
of four angles, — or as paternity is the same relation whether 
we look from the son to the father, or from the father to the 
son. We cannot, therefore, be conscious of imagining an 
object, without being conscious of the object imagined; and as 
regards imagination, Reid's limitation of consciousness is, there- 
fore, futile.'. 

Memory, — I proceed next to Memory : — "It is by Memory," 
says Dr. Reid, "that we have an immediate knowledge of 
things past. The senses give us information of things only as 
they exist in the present moment ; and this information, if it 
were not preserved by memory, would vanish instantly, and 
leave us as ignorant as if it had never been. Memory must 
have an object. Every man who remembers must remember 
something, and that which he remembers is called the object of 
his remembrance. In this, memory agrees with perception, but 
differs from sensation, which has no object but the feeling itself. 
Every man can distinguish the thing remembered from the 
remembrance of it. We may remember any thing which we 
have seen, or heard, or known, or done, or suffered ; but the 
remembrance of it is a particular act of the mind which now 
exists, and of which we are conscious. To confound these two 
is an absurdity which a thinking man could not be led into, but 
by some false hypothesis which hinders him from reflecting 
upon the thing which he would explain by it." " The object 
of memory, or thing remembered, must be something that is 
pap.t; as the object of perception and of consciousness must be 

act are here only one and the same thing in two several relations. Reid's 
error consists in mistaking a logical for a metaphysical difference — a dis- 
tinction of relation for a distinction of entity. ' Or is the error only from 
the vagueness and ambiguity of expression 1] — Diss. supp. to Reid. 



144 CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 

something which is present. What now is, cannot be an object 
of memory ; neither can that which is past and gone be an 
object of perception, or of consciousness." " Sometimes, in 
popular discourse, a man says he is conscious that he did such 
a thing, meaning that he distinctly remembers that he did it. 
It is unnecessary, in common discourse, to ^x accurately the 
limits between consciousness and memory. This was formerly 
shown to be the case with regard to sense and memory, ^nd, 
therefore, distinct remembrance is sometimes called sense, 
sometimes consciousness, without any inconvenience. But this 
ought to be avoided in philosophy, otherwise we confound . the 
different powers of the mind, and ascribe to one what really 
belongs to another. If a man be conscious of what he did 
twenty years or twenty minutes ago, there is no use for mem- 
ory, nor ought we to allow that there is any such faculty. The 
faculties of consciousness and memory are chiefly distinguished 
by this, that the first is an immediate knowledge of the present, 
the second an immediate knowledge of the past." 

From these quotations it appears, that Reid distinguishes 
memory from consciousness in this, — that memory is an im- 
mediate knowledge of the past, consciousness an immediate 
knowledge of the present. We may, therefore, be conscious 
of the act of memory as present, but of the object of memory 
as past, consciousness is impossible. Now if memory and con- 
sciousness be, as Reid asserts,' the one an immediate knowledge 
of the past, the other an immediate knowledge of the present, 
it is evident that memory is a faculty whose object lies beyond 
the sphere of consciousness; and, consequently, that conscious- 
ness cannot be regarded as the general condition of every intel- 
lectual act. We have only, therefore, to examine whether this 
attribution of repugnant qualities to consciousness and memory 
be correct, — whether there be not assigned to one or other a 
function which does not really belong to it. 

Now, in regard to what Dr. Reid says of consciousness, I 
admit that no exception can be taken. Consciousness is an 
immediate knowledge of the present. We have, indeed, already 
v<hown that consciousness is an immediate knowledge, and, there- 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 145 

fore, onlj of the actual or now-existent. This being admitted, 
and professing, as we do, to prove that consciousness is the one 
generic facuhj of knowledge, we consequently must maintain 
that all knowledge is immediate, and only of the actual or 
present, — in other words, that what is called mediate knowl- 
edge, knowledge of the past, knowledge of the absent, knowl- 
edge of the non-actual or possible, is either no knowledge at 
all, or only a knowledge contained in, and evolved out of, an 
Immediate knowledge of what is now existent and actually 
present to the mind. This, at first sight, may appear like para- 
dox ; I trust you will soon admit that the counter doctrine is 
Belf-repugnant. 

Conditions of immediate knowledge. — Let us first determine 
what immediate knowledge is, and then s6e whether the knowl- 
edge we have of the past, through memory, can come under the 
conditions of immediate knowledge. Now nothing can be more 
evident than the following positions : 1^, An object to be known 
immediately must be known in itself, — that is, in those modifi- 
cations, qualities, or phaenomena, through which it manifests its 
existence, and not in those of something different from itself; 
for, if we suppose it known not in itself, but in some other 
thing, then this other thing is what is immediately known, 
and the object known through it is only an object mediately 
known. 

But 2°, If a thing can be immediately known only if known 
in itself, it is manifest that it can only be known in itself, if it 
be itself actually in existence, and actually in immediate rela- 
tion to our faculties of knowledge. 

Memory not an immediate knowledge of the past. — Such are 
the necessary conditions of immediate knowledge ; and they 
disprove at once Dr. Reid's assertion, that memory is an imme- 
diate knowledge of the past. An immediate knowledge is only 
conceivable of the now existent, as the now existent alone can 
be known in itself. But the past is only past, inasmuch as it is 
not now existent; and as it is not now existent, it cannot be 
known in itself. The immediate knowledge of the past is, 
therefore, impossible. . 

13 



146 CCmSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 

We liave, hitherto, been considering tl e conditions of imme- 
diate knowledge in relation to the object ; let us now consider 
them in relation to the cognitive act. Every act, and conse- 
quently, every act of knowledge, exists only as it now exists ; 
and as it exists only in the now^ it can be cognizant only of a 
now-existent object. Memory is an act, — an act of knowledge ; 
it can, therefore, be cognizant only of a now-existent object. 
But the object known in memory is, ex hypothesis past ; conse- 
quently, we are reduced to the dilemma, either of refusing a 
past object to be known in memory at all, or of admitting it to 
be only mediately known, in and through a present object. 
That the latter alternative is the true, it will require a very 
few explanatory words to convince you. What are the con- 
tents of an act of memory ? An act of memory is merely a 
present state of mind, which we are conscious of, not as abso- 
lute, but as relative to, and representing, another state of mind, 
and accompanied with the belief that the state of mind, as now 
represented, has actually been. I remember an event I saw, — 
the landing of George lY. at Leith. This remembrance is 
only a consciousness of certain imaginations, involving the 
conviction that these imaginations now represent ideally what I 
formerly really experienced. All that is immediately known 
in the act of memory, is the present mental modification ; that 
is, the representation and concomitant belief. Beyond this 
mental modification, we know nothing ; and this mental modifi- 
cation is not only known to consciousness, but only exists in and 
by consciousness. Of any past object, real or ideal, the mind 
knows and can know nothing, for ex hypothesis no such object 
now exists ; or if it be said to know such an object, it can only 
be said to know it mediately, as represented in the present 
mental modification. 

Properly speaking*, however, we inow only the actual and 
present, and all real knowledge is an immediate knowledge. 
What is said to be mediately known, is, in truth, not known to 
be, but only believed to be ; for its existence is only an inference 
resting on the belief, that the mental modification truly repre- 
sents what is in itself beyond the sphere of knowledge. What 



CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY. 147 

is immediately known must be ; for what is immediately known 
is supposed to be known as existing. The denial of the exist- 
ence, and of the existence within the sphere of consciousness, 
involves, therefore, a denial of the immediate knowledge of in 
object. We may, accordingly, doubt the reality of any object 
of mediate knowledge, without denying the reality of the im- 
mediate knowledge on which the mediate knowledge rests. In 
memory, for instance, we cannot deny the existence of the 
present representation and belief, for their existence is the con- 
sciousness of their existence itself. To doubt their existence, 
therefore, is for us to doubt the existence of our conscious- 
ness. But as this doubt itself exists only through consciousness, 
it would, consequently, annihilate itself. But, though in mem- 
ory we must admit the reality of the representation and belief, 
as facts of consciousness, we may doubt, we may deny, that the 
representation and belief are true. We may assert that they 
represent what never was, and that all beyond their present 
mental existence is a delusion. This, however, could not be 
the case if our knowledge of the past were immediate. So 
far, therefore, is memory from being an immediate knowledge 
of the past, that it is at best only a mediate knowledge of the 
past ; while, in philosophical propriety, it is not a knowledge of 
the past at all, but a knowledge of the present and a belief of 
the past. But in whatever terms we may choose to designate 
the contents of memory, it is manifest that these contents are 
all within the sphere of consciousness."* 

* [This criticism on Reid^s doctrine of memory is hardly fair, for it seems 
to be founded on a misapprehension of his use of language. The word 
" immediate ^' has two meanings : — first, as present, instant, or now existing. 
In tliis sense, we say, "There is a call for immediate action," meaning 
thereby instant action. Secondly, it may mean direct, proximate, or without 
the intervention of any other thing ; thus, " The immediate agency of God," 
signifies his direct action, without the intervention of any second cause. In 
treating of memory, Reid uses the word " immediate " in the former accep- 
tation, Hamilton in the latter. Hence there is no contradiction between 
them. Either might have accepted the other's doctrine as supplementary 
to his own, — certainly as not contradicting it.] — Am. Ed. 



CHAPTER X- 

CONSCIOUSNESS NOT A SPECIAL FACULTY CONTINUED ; ITS 
RELATION TO PERCEPTION, ATTENTION, AND REFLEC- 
TION. 

Reid contradistinguishes consciousness from perception, — 
We now proceed to consider the third faculty which Dr. Keid 
specially contradistinguishes from Consciousness, — I mean 
Perception, or that faculty through which we obtain a knowl- 
edge of the external world. Now, you will observe that Reid 
maintains, against the immen&e majority of all, and XhQ entire 
multitude of modern, philosophers, that we have a direct and 
immediate knowledge of the external world. He thus vindicates 
to mind not only an immediate knowledge of its own modifica- 
tions, but also an immediate knowledge of what is essentially 
different from mind or self, — the modifications of matter. He 
did not, however, allow that these were known by any common 
faculty, but held that the quaUties of mind were exclusively 
made known to us by Consciousness, the quaHties of matter 
exclusively made known to us by Perception. Consciousness 
was, thus, the faculty of immediate knowledge purely subjective ; 
perception, the faculty of immediate knowledge purely objective. 
The Ego was known by one faculty, the Non-Ego by another. 
" Consciousness,'' says Dr. Reid, " is only of things in the mind, 
and not of external things. It is improper to say, I am con- 
scious of the table which is before me. I perceive it, I see it, 
but do not say I am conscious of it. As that consciousness by 
which we have a knowledge of the operations of our own 
minds, is a different power from that by which we perceive 
external objects, and as these different powers have different 
names in our language, and, I believe, in all languages, a philos* 
(143) 



KELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 149 

opher ought carefully to preserve this distinction, and never to 
confound things so different in their nature." And in another 
place he observes : — " Consciousness always goes along with 
perception ; but they are different operations of the mind, and 
they have their different objects. Consciousness is not percep- 
tion, nor is the object of consciousness the object of perception." 

Dr. Reid has many merits as a speculator, but the only merit 
which he arrogates to himself, — the principal merit accorded 
to him by others, — is, that he was the first philosopher, in 
more recent times, who dared, in his doctrine of immediate 
perception, to vindicate, against the unanimous authority of 
philosophers, the universal conviction of mankind. But this 
doctrine he has at best imperfectly developed, and, at the same 
time, has unfortunately obscured it by errors of so singular 
a character, that some acute philosophers have never even 
suspected what his doctrine of perception actually is. One of 
these errors is the contradistinction of perception from con- 
sciousness. 

Doctrine of representative perception in two forms, — I may 
here notice, by anticipation, that philosophers, at least modern 
philosophers, before Reid, allowed to the mind no immediate 
knowledge of the external reality. They conceded to it only a 
representative or mediate knowledge of external things. Of 
these somCj however, held that the representative object — the 
object immediately known — was different from the mind know- 
ing^ as it was also different from the reality it represented ; 
while others, on a simpler hypothesis, maintained that there was 
no immediate entity, no tertium quid, between the reality and the 
mind, but that the immediate or representative object was itself 
a mental modification. The latter thus granting to mind no 
immediate knowledge of aught beyond its own modification, 
could, consequently, only recognize a consciousness of self. 
The former, on the contrary, could, as they actually did, accord 
to consciousness a cognizance^^ of not-self. Now Reid, after 
asserting against the philosophers the immediacy of our knowl- 
edge of external things, would almost appear to have been 
startled by his own boldness, and, instead of carrying his prin- 



150 RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 

Ciple fairly to its issue, by according to consciousness on his 
do^ctrine that knowledge of the external world as existing, 
which, in the doctrine of the philosophers, it obtained of the 
external world as represented, he inconsistently stopped short, 
split immediate knowledge into two parts, and bestowed the 
knowledge of material qualities on perception alone, allowing 
that of mental modifications to remain exclusively with con- 
sciousness. Be this, however, as it may, the exemption of 
the objects of perception from the sphere of consciousness 
can be easily shown to be self-contradictory. 

Reid maintains that we are not conscious of matter. — What ! 
say the partisans of Dr. Reid, are we not to distinguish, as the 
product of different faculties, the knowledge we obtain of objects 
in themselves the most opposite ? Mind and matter are mutu- 
ally separated by the whole diameter of being. Mind and 
matter are, in fact, nothing but words to express two series of 
phsenomena known less in themselves than in contradistinction 
from each other. The difference of the phsenomena to be 
known, surely legitimates a difference of faculty to know them. 
In answer to this, we admit at once, that — were the question 
merely whether we should not distinguish, under consciousness, 
two special faculties, — whether we should not study apart, and 
bestow distinctive appellations on consciousness considered as 
more particularly cognizant of the external world, and on con- 
sciousness considered as more particularly cognizant of the 
internal — this would be highly proper and expedient. But this 
is not the question. Dr. Reid distinguishes consciousness as a 
special faculty from perception as a special faculty, and he 
allows to the former the cognizance of the latter in its operation, 
to the exclusion of its object. He maintains that we are con- 
scious of our perception of a rose, but not of the rose perceived ; 
tliat we know the ego by one act of knowledge, the non-ego by 
another. This doctrine I hold to be erroneous, and it is this 
doctrine I now proceed to refute. 

Reid is tvrong^ because 1°, the knowledge of opposites is one. 
— In the first place, it is not only a logical axiom, but a self- 
evident truth, that the knowledge of opj^osites is one. Thus, 



RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 151 

we cannot know what is tall without knowing what is short, — 
we know what is virtue only as we know what is vice, — the 
science of health is but another name for the science of disease. 
Nor do we know the opposites, the I and Thou, the Ego and 
the Non-ego, the subject and object, mind and matter, by a dif- 
ferent law. The act which affirms that this particular phae- 
nomenon is a modification of Me, virtually affirms that the 
phaenomenon is not a modification of any thing different from 
Me, and, consequently implies a common cognizance of self 
and not-self; the act which affirms that this other phoenomenon 
is a modification of something different from Me, virtually af- 
firms that the phaenomenon is not a modification of Me, and, 
consequently, imphes a common cognizance of not-self and 
self. But unless we are prepared to maintain that the faculty 
cognizant of self and not-self is different from the faculty cog- 
nizant of not-self and self, we must allow that the ego and non- 
ego are known and discriminated in the same indivisible act of 
knowledge. What, then, is the faculty of which this act of 
knowledge is the energy? It cannot be Reid's consciousness, 
for that is cognizant only of the ego or mind ; — it cannot be 
Reid's perception, for that is cognizant only of the non-ego or 
matter. But as the act cannot be denied, so the faculty must 
be admitted. It is not, however, to be found in Reid's cata- 
logue. But though not recognized by Reid in his system, its 
necessity may, even on his hypothesis, be proved. For if, with 
him, we allow only a special faculty immediately cognizant of 
the ego, and a special faculty immediately cognizant of the non- 
ego, we are at once met by the question. By what faculty are 
the ego and non-ego discriminated? We cannot say by con- 
sciousness, for that knows nothing but mind ; — we cannot say 
by perception, for that knows nothing but matter. But as 
mind and matter are never known apart and by themselves, but 
always in mutual (correlation and contrast, this knowledge of 
them in connection must be the function of some faculty, not 
like Reid's consciousness and perception, severally limited to 
mind and to matter as exclusive objects, but cognizant of them 
as the ego and non-ego, — as the two terms of a relation. It 



152 RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 

is thus shown that an act and a faculty must, perforce, on Reid's 
own hypothesis, be admitted, in which these two terms shall be 
comprehended together in the unity of knowledge, — in short, 
a higher consciousness, embracing Reid's consciousness and 
perception, and in which the two acts, severally cognitive of 
mind and of matter, shall be comprehended and reduced to 
unity and correlation. But what is this but to admit at last, in 
an unphilosophical complexity, the common consciousness of 
subject and object, of mind and matter, which we set out with 
denying in its philosophical simplicity ? 

[The immediate knowledge which Reid allows of things dif- 
ferent from the mind, and the immediate knowledge. of mind 
itself, cannot therefore be split into two distinct acts. In per- 
ception, as in the other faculties, the same indivisible conscious- 
ness is conversant about both terms of the relation of knowledge. 
Distinguish the cognition of the subject from the cognition of 
the object of perception, and you either annihilate the relation 
.of knowledge itself, which exists only in its terms being com- 
prehended together in the unity of consciousness ; or you must 
postulate a higher faculty, which shall again reduce to one the 
two cognitions you have distinguished ; — that is, you are at last 
compelled to admit, in an unphilosophical complexity, that com- 
mon consciousness of subject and object, which you set out with 
denying in its philosophical simplicity. Consciousness and im 
mediate knowledge are thus terms universally convertible ; and 
if there be an immediate knowledge of things external, there 
is consequently the consciousness of an outer world. 

(To obviate misapprehension, we may here parenthetically 
observe, that all we do intuitively know of self, — all that we 
may intuitively know of not-self, is only relative. Existence, 
absolutely and in itself is to us as zero ; and while nothing ^5, 
so nothing is Jcnoivn to us, except those phases of being which 
stand in analogy to our faculties of knowledge. These we call 
qualities^ phenomena, properties, etc. ^Vlien we say, therefore, 
that a thing is known in itself we mean only that it stands face 
to face, in direct and immediate relation to the conscious mind ; 
in other words, that, as existing, its phenomena form part of the 



RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 153 

circl* of our knowledge, — exist since tliey are known, and are 
known because they exist.) — Discussions, 

Because^ 2°, he thus contradicts his own doctrine of an imme- 
diate knowledge of the external world, — But in the second 
place, the attempt of Reid to make consciousness conversant 
about the various cognitive faculties to the exclusion of their 
objects, is equally impossible in regard to Perception, as we 
have shown it to be in relation to Imagination and Memory ; 
nay, the attempt, in the case of perception, would, if allowed, 
be even suicidal of his great doctrine of our immediate knowl- 
edge of the external world. 

Reid's assertion, that we are conscious of the act of percep- 
tion, but not of the object perceived, involves, first of all, a 
general absurdity. For it virtually asserts that we can know 
what we a]*e not conscious of knowing. An act of perception 
is an act of knowledge ; what we perceive, that we know. Now, 
if in perception there be an external reality known, but of 
which external reaHty we are, on Reid's hypothesis, not con- 
scious, then is there an object known, of which we are not con- 
scious. But as we know only inasmuch as we know that we 
know, — in other words, inasmuch as we are conscious that we 
know, -^- we cannot know an object without being conscious of 
that object as known ; consequently, we cannot perceive an 
object without being conscious of that object as perceived. 

But, again, how is it possible that we can be conscious of an 
operation of perception^ unless consciousness be coextensive 
with that act ; and how can it be coextensive with the act, and 
not also conversant with its object? An act of knowledge is 
only possible in relation to an object, — and it is an act of one 
kind oi" another only by special relation to a particular object. 
Thus the object at once determines the existence, and specifies 
the character of the existence, of the intellectual energy. An 
act of knowledge existing, and being what it is, only by relation 
to its object, it is manifest that the act can be known only 
through the object to which it is correlative ; and Reid's suppo- 
sition, that an operation can be known in consciousness to the 
exclusion oF its object, is impossible. For example, I see the 



154 RELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 

inkstand. How can I be conscious that my present modifica- 
tion exists, — that it is a perception, and not another mental 
state, — that it is a perception of sight to the exclusion of every 
other sense, — and, finally, that it is a perception of the ink- 
stand and of the inkstand only, — unless my consciousness com- 
prehend within its sphere the object, which at once determines 
the existence of the act, qualifies its kind, and distinguishes its 
individuality ? Annihilate the inkstand, you annihilate the per- 
ception ; annihilate the consciousness of the object, you anni- 
hilate the consciousness of the operation. 

The apparent incongruity of the expression explained, — It 
undoubtedly sounds strange to say, I am conscious of the ink- 
stand, instead of saying, I am conscious of the perception of 
the inkstand. This I admit ; but the admission can avail noth- 
ing to Dr. Reid, for the apparent incongruity of the expression 
arises only from the prevalence of that doctrine of perception in 
the schools of philosophy, which it is his principal merit to 
have so vigorously assailed. So long as it was universally 
assumed by the learned, that the mind is cognizant of nothing 
beyond, either, on one theory, its own representative modifica- 
tions, or, on another, the species, ideas, or representative enti- 
ties, different from itself, which it contains, and that all it knows 
of a material world is only an internal representation which, by 
the necessity of its nature, it mistakes for an external reality, — 
the supposition of an immediate knowledge of material phae- 
nomena was regarded only as a vulgar, an unphilosophical illu- 
sion ; and the term consciousness, which was exclusively a 
learned or technical expression for all immediate knowledge, 
was, consequently, never employed to express an immediate 
knowledge of aught beyond the mind itself; and thus, when at 
length, by Reid's own refutation of the prevailing doctrine, it 
becomes necessary to extend the term to the immediate knowl- 
edge of external objects, this extension, so discordant with 
philosophic usage, is, by the force of association and custom, 
felt at first as strange and even contradictory. A slight con- 
sideration, however, is sufficient to reconcile us to the expres- 
sion, in showing, if we hold the doctrine of immediate per- 



TIELATION OF CONSCIOUSNESS TO PERCEPTION. 155 

ception, the necessity of not limiting consciousness to our 
subjective states. In fact, if we look beneath the surface, 
consciousness was not, in general, restricted, even in philosophi- 
cal usage, to the moSiJications of the conscious self. That great 
majority of philosophers who held that, in perception, we know 
nothing of the external reality as existing, but that we are 
immediately cognizant only of a representative something, dif- 
ferent both from the object represented and from the percipient 
aind, — these philosophers, one and all, admitted that we are 
onscious of this tertium quid present to, but not a modification 
f, mind ; — for, except Reid and his school, I am aware of no 
^ hilosophers who denied that consciousness was coextensive or 
ittcntical with immediate knowledge. 

How some of the self-contradictions of Reid' s doctrine may be 
avoided, — But, in the third place, we have previously reserved 
a supposition on v^^hich we may possibly avoid some of the self- 
contradictions which emerge from Keid's proposing as the 
object of consciousness the act, but excluding from its cogni- 
zance the object, of perception ; that is, the object of its own 
object. The supposition is, that Dr. Reid committed the same 
error in regard to perception, wliich he did in regard to mem- 
ory and imagination ; and that, in maintaining our immediate 
knowledge in perception, he meant nothing more than to main- 
tain, that the mind is not, in that act, cognizant of any repre- 
sentative object different from its own modification, of any ter- 
tium quid ministering between itself and the external «reahty ; 
but that, in perception, the mind is determined itself to repre- 
sent the unknown external reality, and that, on this self-repre- 
sentation, he abusively bestowed the name of immediate knowl- 
edge, in contrast to that more complex theory of perception, 
which holds tha,t there intervenes between the percipient mind 
and the external existence an intermediate something, different 
from both, by whicii the former knows, and by which the latter 
is represented. On the supposition of this mistake, we may 
believe him guiltless cf the others ; and we can certainly, on 
this ground, more easijy conceive how he could accord to con- 
sciousness a knowledge only of the percipient act, — meaning 



156 ATTENTION" AND REFLECTION. 

by that act the representation of the external reality ; and how 
he could deny to consciousness a knowledge of the object of 
perception, — meaning by that object the unknown reality itself. 
This is the only opinion which Dr. Brown and others ever sus- 
pect him of maintaining ; and a strong case might certainly .be 
made out to prove that this view of his doctrine is correct. 
But if such were, in truth, Reid's opinion, then has he accom- 
plished nothing, — his whole philosophy is one mighty blund^n- 
For, as I shall hereafter show, idealism finds in this simpler 
hypothesis of representation even a more secure foundation 
than on the other ; and, in point of fact, on this hypothesis, the 
most philosophical scheme of idealism that exists, — the Egois- 
tic or Fichtean, — is established. 

Taking, however, the general analogy of Reid's system, and 
a great number of unambiguous passages into account, I am 
satisfied that this view of his doctrine is erroneous ; and I shall 
endeavor, when we come to treat of mediate and immediate 
knowledge, to explain how, from his never having formed to 
himself an adequate conception of these under all their possi- 
ble forms, and from his historical ignorance of them as actually 
held by philosophers, — he often appears to speak in contradic- 
tion of the vital doctrine which, in equity, he must be held to 
have steadily maintained. 

Reid and Stewart on Attention and Reflection, — Besides 
the operations we have already considered, — Imagination or 
Conception, Memory, and Perception, which Dr. Reid and Mr. 
Stewart have endeavored to discriminate from Consciousness, 
— there are further to be considered Attention and Reflection, 
which, in like manner, they have maintained to be an act or 
acts, not subordinate to, or contained in. Consciousness. But 
before proceeding to show that their doctrine on this point is 
almost equally untenable as on the preceding, it is necessary 
to clear up some confusion, and to notice certain collateral 
errors. 

Reid either employs these terms as synonymous expressions, 
or lie distinguishes them only by making Attention relative to 
the consciouness and perception of the present ; Reflection to 



ATTENTION AND KEFLECTION. 157 

tlie memory of the past. He says, " In order, however, to our 
having a distkict notion of any of the operations of our own 
minds, it is not enough tliat we be conscious of them, for all 
men have this consciousness : it is further necessary that we 
attend to them while they are exerted, and reflect upon them 
with care while they are recent and fresh in our memory. It 
is necessary that, by employing ourselves frequently in this 
way, we get the habit of this attention and reflection," etc. 
And " Mr. Locke," he says, " has restricted the word reflection 
to that which is employed about the operations of our minds, 
without any authority, as I think, from custom, the arbiter of 
language : for surely I may reflect upon what I have seen or 
heard, as well as upon what I have thought. The word, in its 
proper and common meaning, is equally applicable to objects of 
sense, and to objects of consciousness. He has likewise con- 
founded reflection with consciousness, and seems not to have 
been aware that they are different powers, and appear at very 
different periods of life." In the first of these quotations, Reid 
might use attention in relation to the consciousness of the 
present, reflection^ to the memory of the past; but in the 
second, in saying that reflection "is equally applicable to 
objects of sense and to objects of consciousness," he distinctly 
indicates that the two terms are used by him as convertible. 
Reid (I may notice by the way) is wholly wrong in his stric- 
tures on Locke for his restricted usage of the term reflection ; 
for it was not until after his time, that the term came, by Wolf, 
to be philosophically employed in a more extended signification 
than that in which Locke correctly applies it. Keid is likewise 
wrong, if we literally understand his words, in saying that 
reflection is employed in common language in relation to objects 
of sense. It is never employed except upon the mind and its 
contents. We cannot be said to reflect upon any external 
object, except in so far as that object has been previously per- 
ceived, and its imjige become part and parcel of our intellectual 
furniture. We may be said to reflect upon it in memory, but 
not in perception. But to return. 

Reid, therefore, you will observe, identifies Attention and 
14 



258 ATTENTIOlSr AND REFLECTION. 

Keflection. Now Mr. Stewart says, " Some important observa- 
tions on the subject of attention occur in different parts of Dr. 
Reid's writings. To this ingenious author we are indebted for 
the remark, that attention to things external is properly called 
observation ; and attention to the subjects of our consciousness, 
reflection* 

There is, likewise, another oversight of Mr. Stewart which I 
may notice. "Although," he says, "the connection between 
attention and memory has been frequently remarked in general 
terms, I do not recollect that the power of attention has been 
mentioned by any of the writers on pneumatology in their enu- 
meration of faculties of the mind ; nor has it been considered 
by any one, so far as I know, as of sufficient importance to 
deserve a particular examination." So far is this from being 
the case, that there are many previous authors who have con- 
sidered attention as a separate faculty, and treated of it even 
at greater length than Mr. Stewart himself. This is true not 
only of the celebrated Wolf, but of the whole Wolfian school ; 
and to these I may add Condillac, Malebranche, and many 
others. But this by the way. 

Is Attention a faculty distinct from consciousness! — ^Taking, 
however. Attention and Keflection for acts of the same faculty, 
and supposing, with Mr. Stewart, that i^eflection is properly 
attention directed to the phaenomena of mind; observation, 
attention directed to the phsenomena of matter ; the main ques- 
tion comes to be considered, Is Attention a faculty different 
from Consciousness, as Reid and Stewart maintain? As the 
latter of these philosophers has not argued the point himself, 
but merely refers to the arguments of the former in confirma- 
tion of their common doctrine, it will be sufficient to adduce the 
following passage from Reid, in which his doctrine on this head 
is contained. " I return," he says, " to what I mentioned as 
the main source of information on this subject, — attentive re- 
flection upon the operations of our own minds. 

" All the notions we have of mind and its operations, are, by 
Mr. Locke, called ideas of reflection. A man may have as dis- 
tinct notions of remembrance, of judgment, of will, of desire, 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 159 

as he has of any object whatever. Such notions, as Mr. Locke 
justly observes, are got by the power of reflection. But what 
is this power of reflection ? ' It is,' says the same author, ' that 
power by which the mind turns its view inward, and observes 
its own actions and operations.' He observes elsewhere, ' That 
the understanding, like the eye, whilst it makes us see and per- 
ceive all other things, takes no notice of itself; and that it 
requires art and pains to set it at a distance, and make it its 
own object.' 

"This power of the understanding to make its own opera- 
tions its object, to attend to them, and examine them on all 
sides, is the power of reflection, by which alone we can have 
any distinct notions of the powers of our own or of other 
minds. 

" This reflection ought to be distijiguished from eonsctous7iess, 
with which it is too often confounded, even by Mr. Locke. All 
men are conscious of the operations of their own minds, at all 
times while they are awake ; but there are few who reflect upon 
them, or make them objects of thought." 

What Attention is. — Dr. Reid has rightly said that Attention 
is a voluntary act. This remark might have led him to the 
observation, that Attention is not a separate faculty, or a faculty 
of intelligence at all, but merely/ an act of will or desire, subor- 
dinate to a certain law of intelligence. This law is, that the 
greater number of objects to which our consciousness is simul- 
taneously extended, the smaller is the intensity with which it is 
able to consider each, and consequently, the less vivid and dis- 
tinct will be the information it obtains of the several subjects. 
This law is expressed in the old adage, 

" Pluribus intentus minor est ad singula sensus." 

Such being the law, it follows that, when our interest in any 
particular object is excited, and when we wish to obtain all the 
knowledge concerning it in our power, it behooves us to limit 
our consi'deration to that object, to the exclusion of others. 
This is done by an act of volition or desire, which is called 
attention. But to view attention as a special act of intelligence, 



160 NATURE AND LLMITS OF ATTENTION. 

and to distinguish it from consciousness, is utterly inept. Con- 
sciousness may be compared to a telescope, attention to the 
pulling out or in of the tubes in accommodating the focus to 
the object ; and we might, with equal justice, distinguish in the 
eye the adjustment of the pupil from the general organ of 
vision, as, in the mind, distinguish attention from consciousness, 
as separate faculties. Not, however, that they are to be ac- 
counted the same. Attention is consciousness, and something 
more. It is consciousness voluntarily applied, under its law 
of limitations, to some determinate object ; it is consciousness 
concentrated. In this respect, attention is an interesting subject 
of consideration ; and having now finished what I proposed in 
proof of the position, that consciousness is not a special faculty 
of knowledge, but coextensive with all our cognitions, I shall 
proceed to consider it in its various aspects and relations ; and 
having just stated the law of limitation, I shall go on to what 
I have to say in regard to attention as a general phsenomenon 
of consciousness. 

Can we attend to more than one object at once ? — And, here, 
I have first to consider a question in which I am again sorry to 
find myself opposed to many distinguished philosophers, and in 
particular, to one whose opinion on this, as on every other 
point of psychological observation, is justly entitled to the 
highest consideration. The philosopher I allude to is Mr. 
Stewart. The question is. Can we attend to more than a 
single object at once? For if attention be nothing but the 
concentration of consciousness on a smaller number of objects 
than constitute its widest compass of simultaneous knowledge, 
it is evident that, unless this widest compass of consciousness 
be limited to only two objects, we do attend when we converge 
consciousness on any smaller number than that total comple- 
ment of objects which it can embrace at once. For example, 
if we suppose that the number of objects which consciousness 
can simultaneously apprehend be six, the limitation of con- 
sciousness to ^\e^ or four, or three, or two, or one, will all be 
acts of attention, different in degree, but absolutely identical in 
kind. 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. IGl 

Stewart's doctrine of attention, — Mr. Stewart's doctrine is 
as follows : — " Before," he says, " we leave the subject of 
Attention, it is proper to take notice of a question which has 
been stated with respect to it ; whether we have the power of 
attending to more than one thing at one and the same instant ; 
or, in other words, whether we can attend, at one and the same 
instant, to objects which we can attend to separately ? This 
question has, if I am not mistaken, been already decided by 
several philosophers in the negative ; and I acknowledge, for 
my own part, that although their opinion has not only been 
called in question by others, but even treated with some degree 
of contempt as altogether hypothetical, it appears to me to be 
the most reasonable and philosophical that we can form on the 
subject. 

" There is, indeed, a great variety of cases in which the 
mind apparently exerts different acts of attention at once ; but 
from the instances which have already been mentioned, of the 
astonishing rapidity of thought, it is obvious that all this may 
be explained without supposing those acts to be coexistent ; and 
I may even venture to add, it may all be explained in the most 
satisfactory manner, without ascribing to our intellectual opera- 
tions a greater degree of rapidity than that with which we 
know, from the fact, that they are sometimes carried on. The 
effect of practice in increasing this capacity of apparently at- 
tending to different things at once, renders this explanation of 
the phaenomenon in question more probable than any other. 

" The case of the equilibrist and rope-dancer is particularly 
favorable to this explanation, as it affords direct evidence of the 
possibility of the mind's exerting different successive acts in an 
interval of time so short, as to produce the same sensible effect 
as if they had been exerted at one and the same moment. In 
this case, indeed, the rapidity of thought is so remarkable, that 
if the different acts of the mind were not all necessarily accom- 
panied with different movements of the eye, there can be no 
reason for doubting that the philosophers whose doctrine I am 
now controverting, would have asserted that they are all mathe- 
matically coexistent. 

14* 



162 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

" Upon a question, however, of this sort, which does not ad- 
mit of a perfectly direct appeal to the fact, I would by no 
means be understood to decide with confidence ; and, therefore, 
I should wish the conclusions I am now to state, to be received 
as only conditionally established. They are necessary and 
obvious consequences of the general principle, ' that the mind 
can only attend to one thing at once ; ' but must stand or fall 
v/ith the truth of that supposition. 

"It is commonly understood, I believe, that in a concert of 
music, a good ear can attend to the different parts of the music 
separately, or can attend to them all at once, and feel the full 
effect of the harmony. If the doctrine, however, which I have 
endeavored to establish be admitted, it will follow that, in the 
latter case, the mind is constantly varying its attention from the 
one part of the music to the other, and that its operations are 
so rapid as to give us no perception of an interval of time. 

" The same doctrine leads to some curious conclusions with 
respect to vision. Suppose the eye to be fixed in a particular 
position, and the picture of an object to be painted on the 
retina. Does the mind perceive the complete figure of the ob- 
ject at once, or is this perception the result of the various per- 
ceptions we have of the different points in the outline ? With 
respect to this question, the principles already stated lead me to 
conclude, that the mind does, at one and the same time, per- 
ceive every point in the outline of the object (provided the 
whole of it be painted on the retiiia at the same instant) ; for 
perception, like consciousness, is an involuntary operation. As 
no two points, however, of the outline are in the same direction, 
every point by itself constitutes just as distinct an object of 
attention to the mind, as if it were separated by an interval of 
empty space from all the rest. If the doctrine, therefore, 
formerly stated be just, it is impossible for the mind to attend 
to more than one of these points at once ; and as the perception 
of the figure of the object implies a knowledge of the relative 
situation of the different points with respect to each other, we 
must conclude, that the perception of figure by the eye is the 
result of a number of different acts of attention. These acts 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 163 

of attention, however, are performed with such rapidity, that 
the effect, with respect to us, is the same as if the perception 
were instantaneous. 

"In further confirmation of this reasoning, it may be re* 
marked, that if the perception of visible figure were an imme- 
diate consequence of the picture on the retina, we should have, 
at the first glance, as distinct an idea of a figure of a thousand 
sides as of a triangle or a square. The truth is, that when the 
figure is very simple, the process of the mind is so rapid that 
the perception seems to be instantaneous ; but when the sides 
are multipled beyond a certain number, the interval of time 
necessary for these different acts of attention becomes percep- 
tible. 

" It may, perhaps, be asked what I mean by a point in the 
outline of a figure, and what it is that constitutes this point one 
object of attention. The answer, I apprehend, is that this 
point is the minimum visihile. If the point be less, we cannot 
perceive it ; if it be greater, it is not all seen in one direction. 

" If these observations be admitted, it will follow that, with- 
out the faculty of memory, we could have had no perception of 
visible figure." 

On this point. Dr. Brown not only coincides with Mr. Stewart 
in regard to the special fact of attention, but asserts in general 
that the mind cannot exist at the same moment in two different 
states, that is, in two states in either of which it can exist sep- 
arately. " K the mind of man," he says, " and all the changes 
which take place in it, from the first feeling with which hfe 
commenced to the last with which it closes, could be made 
visible to any other thinking being, a certain series of feelings 
alone, — that is to say, a certain number of successive states of 
.mind, would be distinguishable in it, forming indeed a variety 
of sensations, and thoughts, and passions, as momentary states 
of the mind, but all of them existing individually, and succes- 
sively to each other. To suppose the mind to exist in twc 
different states, in the same moment, is a manifest absurdity." 

Criticism of Stewart's doctrine, — I shall consider these 
statements in detail. Mr. Stewart's first illustration of Ids doc- 



1G4 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

trine is drawn from a concert of music, in which, he sajs, " a 
good ear can attend to the different parts of the music sepa- 
rately, or can attend to them all at once, and feel the full effect 
of the harmony." This example, however, appears to me to 
amount to a reduction of his opinion to the impossible. What 
are the facts in this example ? In a musical concert, we have 
a multitude of different instruments and voices emitting at once 
an infinity of different sounds. These all reach the ear at the 
same indivisible moment in which they perish, and, consequently, 
if heard at all, much more if their mutual relation or harmony 
be perceived, they must be all heard simultaneously. This is 
evident. For if the mind can attend to each minimum of 
sound only successively, it, consequently, requires a minimum 
of time in which it is exclusively occupied with each minimum 
of sound. Now, in this minimum of time, there coexist with 
it, and with it perish, many minima of sound which, ex hypothesis 
are not perceived, are not heard, as not attended to. In a con- 
cert, therefore, on this doctrine, a small number of sounds only 
could be perceived, and above this petty maximum, all sounds 
would be to the ear as zero. But what is the fact ? No con- 
cert, however numerous its instruments, has yet been found to 
have reached, far less to have surpassed, the capacity of mind 
and its organ. 

But it is even more impossible, on this hypothesis, to under- 
stand how we can perceive the relation of different sounds, that 
is, have any feeling of the harmony of a concert. In this 
respect, it is, indeed, felo de se. It is maintained that we can- 
not attend at once to two sounds, we cannot perceive them as 
coexistent, — consequently, the feeling of harmony of which we 
are conscious, must proceed from the feeling of the relation of 
these sounds as successively perceived in different points of 
time. We must, therefore, compare the past sound, as retained 
in memory, with the present, as' actually perceived. But this 
is impossible on the hypothesis itself. For we must, in this 
case, attend to the past sound in memory, and to the present 
Bound in sense at once, or they will not be perceived in mutual 
relation as harmonic. But one sound in memory and another 



^ NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 165 

sound in sense, are as mucli two different objects as two dif- 
ferent sounds in sense. Therefore, one of two conclusions is 
inevitable, — either we can attend to two different objects at 
once, and the hypothesis is disproved, or we cannot, and all 
knowledge of relation and harmony is impossible, which i^ 
absurd. 

His illustration from the phcenomena of vision, — The conse- 
quences of this doctrine are equally startling, as taken from 
Mr. Stewart's second illustration from the phsenomena of vision. 
He holds that the perception of figure by the eye is the result 
of a number of separate acts of attention, and that each act of 
attention has for its object a point the least that can be seen, 
the minimum visihile. On this hypothesis, we must suppose 
that, at every instantaneous opening of the eyelids, the moment 
sufficient for us to take in the figure of the objects compre- 
hended in the sphere of vision, is subdivided into almost infin- 
itesimal parts, in each of which a separate act of attention is 
performed. This is, of itself, sufficiently inconceivable. But 
this being admitted, no difficulty is removed. The separate 
acts must be laid up in memory, in imagination. But how are 
they there to form a single whole, unless we can, in imagina- 
tion, attend to all the minima visihilia together, which, in per- 
ception, we could only attend to severally ? On this subject I 
shall, however, have a more appropriate occasion of speaking, 
when I consider Mr. Stewart's doctrine of the relation of color 
to extension. 

Attention possible without an act of free-wilL — I think Reid 
and Stewart incorrect in asserting that attention is only a vol- 
untary act, meaning, by the expression voluntary^ an act of free- 
will. I am far from maintaining, as Brown and others do, that 
all will is desire ; but still I am persuaded that we are fre- 
quently determined to an act of attention, as to many other 
acts, independently of our free and deliberate volition. Nor is 
it, I conceive, possible to hold that, though immediately deter- 
mined to an act of attention by desire, it is only by the permis- 
sion of our will that this is done ; consequently, that every act 
of after tion is still under the control of our volition. This I 



166 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

cannot maintain. Let us take an example : — When occupied 
with other matters, a person may speak to us, or the clock may 
strike, without our having any consciousness of the sound ; but 
U is wholly impossible for us to remain in this state of un- 
consciousness intentionally and with will. We cannot deter- 
minately refuse to hear by voluntarily withholding our atten- 
tion ; and we can no more open our eyes, and, by an act of will, 
avert our minds from all perception of sight, than w^e can, by 
an act of will, cease to live. We may close our ears or shut 
our eyes, as we may commit suicide ; but we cannot, with our 
organs unobstructed, wholly refuse our attention at will. 

Attention of three degrees or kinds. — It, therefore, appears 
to me the more correct doctrine to hold that there is no con- 
sciousness without attention, — without concentration, — but that 
attention is of three degrees or kinds. The first, a mere vital 
and irresistible act ; the • second, an act determined by desire, 
which, though involuntary, may be resisted by our will ; the 
third, an act determined by a deliberate volition. An act of 
attention, — that is, an act of concentration, — seems thus 
necessary to every exertion of consciousness, as a certain con- 
traction of the pupil is requisite to every exercise of vision. 
We have formerly noticed, that discrimination is a condition of 
consciousness ; and a discrimination is only possible by a con- 
centrative act, or act of attention. This, however, which cor- 
responds to the lowest degree, — to the mere vital or automatic 
act of attention, has been refused the name ; and attention, in 
contradistinction to this mere automatic contraction, given to 
the two other degrees, of which, however, Reid only recognizes 
the third. 

Attention, then, is to consciousness, what the contraction of 
the pupil is to sight ; or to the eye of the mind, what the 
microscope or telescope is to the bodily eye. The faculty of 
attention is not, therefore, a special faculty, but merely con- 
sciousness acting under the law of limitation to which it is sub- 
jected. But whatever be its relations to the special faculties, 
attention doubles all their efficiency, and affords them a power 
of which they would otherwise be destitute. It is, in fact, as 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 167 

we are at present constituted, the primary condition of their, 
activity. 

Brown's doctrine that the mind cannot exist in two different 
states at once. — I have now only to say a word in answer to 
Dr. Brown's assertion that the mind cannot exist, at the same 
moment, in two different states, — that is, in two states in either 
of which it can exist separately ; he affirms that the contrary 
supposition is a manifest absurdity. I find the same doctrine 
maintained by Locke ; he says : " Different sentiments are dif- 
ferent modifications of the mind. The mind or the soul that 
perceives, is one immaterial, indivisible substance. Now, I see 
the white and black on this paper, I hear one singing in the 
next room, I feel the warmth of the fire I sit by, and I taste an 
apple I am eating, and all this at the same time. Now, I ask, 
take modification for what you please, can the same unextended, 
indivisible substance have different, nay, inconsistent and oppo- 
site (as these of white and black must be), modifications at the 
same time ? Or must we suppose distinct parts in an indivisi- 
ble substance, one for black, another for white, and another for 
red ideas, and so of the rest of those infinite sensations which 
we have in sorts and degrees ; all which we can distinctly per- 
ceive, and so are distinct ideas, some whereof are opposite as 
heat and cold, which yet a man may feel at the same time ? " 

Opposed by Leibnitz and Aristotle, — In reference to this 
passage, Leibnitz says : " Mr. Locke asks, ' Can the same unex- 
tended, indivisible substance have different, nay, inconsistent 
and opposite, modifications at the same time ? ' I reply, it can. 
What is inconsistent in the same object, is not inconsistent in 
the representation of different objects which we conceive at the 
same moment. For this, there is no necessity that there should 
be different parts in the soul, as it is not necessary that there 
should be different parts in the point on which, however, differ- 
ent angles rest." The same thing had, however, been even 
better said by Aristotle, whose doctrine I prefer translating to 
you, as more perspicuous, in the following passage from Joan- 
nes Grammaticus (better known by the surname Philoponus), 
— a Greek philosopher, who flourished towards the middle of 



168 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

the sixth century. It is taken from the Prologue to his valu- 
able commentar J on the De Anima of Aristotle ; and, what is 
curious, the very supposition which, on Locke's doctrine, would 
infer the corporeal nature of mmd, is alleged, by the Aristo- 
telians and Condillac, in proof of its immateriality. " Nothing 
bodily," says Aristotle, " can, at the same time, in the same part^ 
receive contraries. The finger cannot at once be wholly par- 
ticipant of white and of black, nor can it, at once and in the 
same place, be both hot and cold. But the sense at the same 
moment apprehends contraries. Wherefore, it knows that this 
is first, and that second, and that it discriminates the black from 
the white. In what manner, therefore, does sight simultane- 
ously perceive contraries? Does it do so by the same? or 
does it by one pai:t apprehend black, by another, white ? If it 
does so by the same, it must apprehend these without parts, and 
it is incorporeal. But if by one part it apprehends this quality, 
and by another, that, — this, he says, is the same as if I per- 
ceived this, and you that But it is necessary that that wliicli 
judges should be one and the same, and that it should even 
apprehend by the same the objects which are judged. Body 
cannot, at the same moment and by the same part, apply itself 
lo contraries or things absolutely different. But sense at once 
applies itself to black and to white ; it, therefore, applies itself 
indivisibly. It is thus shown to be incorporeal. For if by one 
part it apprehended white, by another part* apprehended black, 
it could not discern the one color from the other ; for no one 
can distinguish that which is perceived by himself as different 
from that which is perceived by another." 

Criticism of Brown's doctrine, — Dr. Brown calls the sensa- 
tion of sweet one mental state, the sensation of cold another ; 
and as the one of these states may exist without the other, 
they are " consequently different states. But will it be main- 
tained that we cannot, at one and the same moment, feel the 
sensations of sweet and cold, or that sensations forming apart 
different states, do, when coexistent in the same subject, form 
otily a single state? 

Oti this view, comparison is impossible. — The doctrine that 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 169 

the mind can attend to, or be conscious of, only a single object 
at a time, would, in fact, involve th'e conclusion that all com- 
parison and discrimination are impossible ; but comparison and 
discrimination being possible, this })Ossibihty disproves the truth 
of the counter proposition. An act of comparison or discrim- 
ination supposes that we are able to comprehend, in one indi- 
visible consciousness, the different objects to be compared or 
discriminated. Were I only conscious of one object at one 
time, I could never possibly * bring them into relation ; each 
could be apprehended only separately, and for itself. For in 
the moment in which I am conscious of the object A, I am, ex 
hypothesis unconscious of the object B ; and in the moment I 
am conscious of the object B, I am unconscious of the object 
A. So far, in fact, from consciousness not being competent to 
the cognizance of two things at once, it is only possible under 
that cognizance as its condition. For without discrimination 
there could be no consciousness ; and discrimination necessarily 
supposes two terms to be discriminated. '* 

No judgment could be possible were not the subject and 
predicate of a proposition thought together by the mind, al- 
though expressed in language one after the other. Nay, as 
Aristotle has observed, a syllogism forms, in thought, one simul- 
taneous act ; and it is only the necessity of retailing it piece- 
meal and by succession, in order to accommodate thought to 
the imperfection of its vehicle, language, that affords the 
appearance of a consecutive existence. Some languages, as 
the Sanscrit, the Latin, and the Greek, express the syntactical 
relations by flexion, and not by mere juxtaposition. Their 
sentences are thus bound up in one organic whole, the preced- 
ing parts remaining suspended in the mind, till the meaning, 
like an electric spark, is flashed from the conclusion to the com- 
mencement. • This is the reason of the greater rhetorical effect 
of terminating the Latin period by the verb. And to take a 
more elementary example, — "How could the mind compre- 
hend these words of Horace, 

* Bacchum in remotis carmina rupibus 
Vidi docentem/ 
15 



170 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

unless it could seize at once those images in which the adjec- 
tives are separated from th^ir substantives ? " 

Hoio many objects can the mind embrace at once f — Suppos- 
ing that the mind is not limited to the simultaneous considera- 
tion of a single object, a question arises, How many objects can 
it embrace at once ? You will recollect that I formerly stated, 
that the greater the number of objects among which the atten- 
tion of the mind is distributed, the feebler and less distinct will 
be its cognizance of each. 

Consciousness will thus be at its maximum of intensity when 
attention is concentrated on a single object ; and the question 
comes to be, how many several objects can the mind simultane- 
ously survey, not with vivacity, but without absolute confusion ? 
I find this problem stated and differently answered, by different 
philosophers, and apparently without a knowledge of each 
other. By Charles Bonnet, the mind is allowed to have a dis- 
tinct notion of six objects at once ; by Abraham Tucker, the 
number is limited to four ; while Destutt-Tracy again amplifies 
it to six. The opinion of the first and last of these philoso- 
phers appears to me correct. You can easily make the experi- 
ment for yourselves, but you must beware of grouping the 
objects into classes. If you throw a handful of marbles on the 
floor, you will find it difiicult to view at once more than six, or 
seven at most, without confusion ; but if you group them into 
twos, or threes, or fives, you can comprehend as many groups 
as you can tmits ; because the mind considers these groups only 
as units ; — it views them as wholes, and throws their parts out 
of consideration. You may perform the experiment also by an ^ 
act of imagination. 

Value of attention considered as an act of will, — Before 
leaving this subject, I shall make some observations on the 
value of attention, considered in its highest degree as an act of 
will, and on the importance of forming betimes the habit of 
deliberate concentration. 

The greater capacity of continuous thinking that a man pos- 
sesses, the longer and more steadily can he follow out the same 
*ira,in of thought, — the stronger is his power of attention ; and 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 171 

in proportion to his power of attention will be the success with 
which his labor is rewarded. All commencement is difficult ; 
and this is more especially true of intellectual effort. When 
we turn for the first time our view on any given object, a hun- 
dred other things still retain possession of our thoughts. Even 
when we are able, by an arduous exertion, to break loose from 
the matters which have previously engrossed us, or which every 
moment force themselves on our consideration, — even when a 
resolute determination, or the attraction of the new object, has 
smoothed the way on which we are to travel ; still the mind is 
continually perplexed by the glimmer of intrusive and distract- 
ing thoughts, which prevent it from placing that which should 
exclusively occupy its view, in the full clearness of an undi- 
vided light. How great soever may be the interest which we 
take in the new object, it will, however, only be fully estabhshed 
as a favorite, when it has been fused into an integral part of the 
system of our previous knowledge, and of our established asso- 
ciations of thoughts, feelings, and desires. But this can only 
be accomplished by time and custom. Our imagination and 
our memory, to which we must resort for materials with which 
to illustrate and enliven our new study, accord us their aid un- 
willingly, — indeed, only by compulsion. But if we are vigor- 
ous enough to pursue our course in spite of obstacles, every 
step, as we advance, will be found easier ; the mind becomes 
more animated and energetic ; the distractions gradually dimin- 
ish; the attention is more exclusively concentrated upon its 
object ; the kindred ideas flow with greater freedom and abun- 
dance, and afford an easier selection of what is suitable for illus- 
tration. At length, our system of thought harmonizes with our 
pursuit. The whole man, becomes, as it may be, philosopher, 
or historian, or poet; he lives only in the trains of thought 
relating to this character. He now energizes freely, and,* con- 
sequently, with pleasure ; for pleasure is the reflex of unforced 
and unimpeded energy. All that is produced in this state of 
mind, bears the stamp of excellence and perfection. 

Helvetius justly observes, that the very feeblest intellect is 
capable of comprehending the inference of one mathematical 



172 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

position from another, and even of making such an inference 
itself. Now, the most difficult and complicate demonstrations 
in the works of a Newton or a Laplace, are all made up of 
such immediate inferences. They are like houses composed of 
single bricks. No greater exertion of intellect is required to 
make a thousand such inferences than is requisite to make one ; 
as the effiDrt of laying a single brick is the maximum of any 
individual effi^rt in the construction of such a house. Thus, 
the difference between an ordinary mind and the mind of a 
Newton consists principally in this, that the one is capable of 
the application of a more continuous attention than the other, — 
that a Newton is able without fatigue to connect inference with 
inference in one long series towards a determinate end ; while 
the man of inferior capacity is soon obliged to break or let fall 
the thread which he had begun to spin. This is, in fact, what 
Sir Isaac, with equal modesty and shrewdness, himself admit- 
ted. To one who complimented him on his genius, he replied 
that if he had made any discoveries, it was owing more to 
patient attention than to any other talent. There is but little 
analogy between mathematics and play-acting ; but I heard the 
great Mrs. Siddons, in nearly the same language, attribute the 
whole superiority of her unrivalled talent to the more intense 
study which she bestowed upon her parts. 

If what Alcibiades, in the Symposium of Plato, narrates of 
Socrates were true, the father of Greek philosophy must have 
possessed this faculty of meditation or continuous attention in 
the highest degree. The story, indeed, has some appearance 
of exaggeration ; but it shows what Alcibiades, or rather Plato 
through him, deemed the requisite of a great thinker. Accord- 
ing to this report, in a military expedition which Socrates made 
along with Alcibiades, the philosopher was seen by the Athe- 
nian army to stand for a whole day and a night, until the break- 
ing of the second morning, motionless, with a fixed gaze, — ■ 
thus showing that he was uninterruptedly engrossed with the 
consideration of a single subject : " And thus," says Alcibiades, 
" Socrates is ever wont to do, when his mind is occupied with 
inquiries in which there are difficulties to be overcome- He 



NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 173 

then never interrupts his meditation, and forgets to eat, and 
drink, and sleep, — everything, in short, until his inquiry has 
reached its termination, or, at least, until he has seen some 
light in it." In this history, there may be, as I have said, ex- 
aggeration ; but still the truth of the principle is undeniable. 
Like Newton, Descartes arrogated nothing to the force of his 
intellect. What he had accomplished more than other men, 
that he attributed to the superiority of his method ; and Bacon, 
in like manner, eulogizes his method, — in that it places all 
men with equal attention upon a level, and leaves little or noth- 
ing to the prerogatives of genius. Nay, genius itself has been 
analyzed by the shrewdest observers into a higher capacity of 
attention. " Genius," says Helvetius, whom we have already 
quoted, " is nothing but a continued attention " (une attention 
suivie). ' 

These examples and authorities concur in establishing the 
important truth, that he who would, with success, attempt dis- 
covery, either by inquiry into the works of nature, or by 
meditation on the phasnomena of mind, must acquire the faculty 
of abstracting himself, for a season, from the invasion of sur- 
rounding objects ; must be able even, in a certain degree, to 
emancipate himself from the dominion of the body, and live, as 
it were, a pure intelligence, within the circle of his thoughts. 
This faculty has been manifested, more or less, by all whose 
names are associated with the progress of the intellectual sci- 
ences. In some, indeed, the power of abstraction almost 
degenerated into a habit akin to disease, and the examples 
which now occur to me would almost induce me to retract 
what I have said about the exaggeration of Plato's history of 
Socrates. Archimedes, it is well known, was so absorbed in a 
geometrical meditation, that he was first aware of the storming 
of Syracuse by his own death-wound, and his exclamation on 
the entrance of Roman soldiers was, — Noli turhare circulos 
meos. In like manner, Joseph Scaliger, the most learned of 
men, when a Protestant student in Paris, was so engrossed in 
the study of Homer, that he became aware of the massacre of 

15* 



174 NATURE AND LIMITS OF ATTENTION. 

St. Bartholomew, and of liis own escape, only on the day sub- 
sequent to the catastrophe. 

I have dwelt at greater length upon the practical bearings of 
Attention, not only because this principle constitutes the better 
half of all intellectual power, but because it is of consequence 
that you should be fully aware of the incalculable importance 
of acquiring, by early and continuecJ exercise, the habit of 
attention. There are, however, many points of great moment 
on which I have not touched, and the dependence of Memory 
upon Attention might alone form an interesting matter of dis- 
cussion. 



CHAPTER XI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS, — ITS EVIDENCE AND AUTHORITY. 

Having now concluded the discussion in regard to what 
Consciousness is, and shown you that it constitutes the funda- 
mental form of every act of knowledge ; — I now proceed to 
consider it as the source from whence we must derive every 
fact in the Philosophy of Mind. And, in prosecution of this 
purpose, I shall, in the Jlrst place, endeavor to show that it 
really is the principal, if not the only source, from which all 
knowledge of the mental phsenomena must be obtained ; in the 
second place, I shall consider the character of its evidence, 
and what, under different relations, are the different degrees of 
its authority ; and, in the last place, I shall state what, and of 
what nature, are the more general phaenomena which it reveals. 
Having terminated these, I shall then descend to the considera- 
tion of the special faculties of knowledge, that is, to the par- 
ticular modifications of which consciousness is susceptible. 

Philosophy implies the veracity of consciousness. — We pro- 
ceed to consider, in the first place, the authority, — the cer- 
tainty, of this instrument. Now, it is at once evident, that 
philosophy, as it affirms its own possibility, must affirm the 
veracity of consciousness ; for, as philosophy is only a scientific 
development of the facts which consciousness reveals, it follows, 
that philosophy, in denying or doubting the testimony of con- 
sciousness, would deny or doubt its own existence. If, there- 
fore, philosophy be not f eh de se, it must not invalidate the 
integrity of that which is, as it were, the heart, the punctum 
saliens^ of its being ; and as it would actively maintain its own 
credit, it must be able positively to vindicate the truth of con- 

(175) 



176 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

sciousness. Leibnitz truly says, — " If our immediate internal 
experience could possibly deceive us, there could no longer be 
for us any truth of fact, li^, nor any truth of reason." 

So far there is, andxan be, no dispute ; if philosophy is pos- 
sible, the evidence of consciousness is authentic. No philoso- 
pher denies its authority, and even the Sceptic can only attempt 
to show, on the hypothesis of the Dogmatist, that consciousness, 
as at variance with itself, is, therefore, on that hypothesis, men- 
dacious. 

But if the testimony of consciousness be in itself confessedly 
above all suspicion, it follows, that we inquire into the condi- 
tions or laws which regulate the legitimacy of its applications. 
The conscious mind being at once the source from which we 
must derive our knowledge of its phsenomena, and the mean 
through which that knowledge is obtained. Psychology is only 
an evolution, by consciousness, of the facts which consciousness 
itself reveals. As every system of Mental Philosophy is thus 
only an exposition of these facts, every such system, conse- 
quently, is true and complete, as it fairly and fully exhibits 
what, and what only, consciousness exhibits. 

Consciousness naturally clear and unerring, — But it may be 
objected, — if consciousness be the only revelation we possess 
of our intellectual nature, and if consciousness be also the sole 
criterion by which we can interpret the meaning of what this 
revelation contains, this revelation must be very obscure, — 
this criterion must be very uncertain, seeing that the various 
systems of philosophy all equally appeal to this revelation and 
to this criterion, in support of the most contradictory opinions. 
As to the fact of the variety and contradiction of philosophical 
systems, — this cannot be denied ; and it is also true that all 
these systems either openly profess allegiance to consciousness, 
. or silently confess its authority. But admitting all this, I am 
still bold enough to maintain, that consciousness affords not 
merely the only revelation, and only criterion of philosophy, 
but that this revelation is naturally clear, — this criterion, in 
itself, unerring. The history of philosophy, like the history of 
theology, is only, it is too true, the history of variaiions ; and 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 177 

we must admit of the book of consciousness what a great Cal- 
vinist divine bitterly confessed of the book of Scripture, — 

" Hie Uber est in quo quserit sua dogmata quisque ; 
Invenit et pariter dogmata quisque sua/' 

Cause of variation in philosophy, — In regard, however, to 
either revelation, it can be shown that the source of this diver- 
sity is not in the book, but in the reader. If men will go to the 
Bible, not to ask of it what they shall believe, but to find in it 
what they believe already, the standard of unity and truth be- 
comes in human hands only a Lesbian rule.* And if philoso- 
phers, in place of evolving their doctrines out of consciousness, 
resort to consciousness only when they are able to quote its 
authority in confirmation of their preconceived opinions, phi- 
losophical systems, like the sandals of Theramenes,t may fit 
any feet, but can never pretend to represent the immutability 
of nature. And that philosophers have been, for the most part, 
guilty of this, it is not extremely difiicult to show. They have 
seldom or never taken the facts of consciousness, the whole 
facts of consciousness, and nothing but the facts of conscious- 
ness. They have either overlooked, or rejected, or interpo- 
lated. 

Before we are entitled to accuse consciousness of being a 
false, or vacillating, or ill-informed witness, — we are bound, 
first of all, to see whether there be any rules by which, in em- 
ploying the testimony of consciousness, we must be governed ; 
and whether philosophers have evolved their systems out of 
consciousness in obedience to these rules. For if there be 



^ [A Lesbian (carpenter's) rule or level, being made of lead, did not 
measure correctly the inequalities of the surface to which it was applied, 
but bent under its own weight so as to adapt itself to those inequalities, 
instead of gauging their amount. See Aristotle, Eth. Nic. v. 10, 7.] — 
Am. Ed. 

t [As Theramenes readily attached himself to any party that happened 
to be uppermost, he was nicknamed 6 KoOopvog, the name for a sort of san- 
dal,' which, unlike those made as^ rights and lefts, would fit equally well 
either foot.l — Am. Ed. 



178 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

rules under whicli alone the evidence of consciousness can be 
fairlj and fully given, and, consequently, under which alone 
consciousness can serve as an infallible standard of certainty 
and truth, and if philosophers have despised or neglected these, 
— then must we remove the reproach from the instrument, and 
affix it to those blundering workmen who have not known how 
to handle and apply it. In attempting to vindicate the veracity 
and perspicuity of this, the natural, revelation of our mental 
being, I shall, therefore, first, endeavor to enumerate and ex- 
|)lain the general rules by which we must be governed in apply- 
ing consciousness as a mean of internal observation, and there- 
after show how the variations and contradictions of philosophy 
have all arisen from the violation of one or more of these laws. 

Three rules for applying the testimony of consciousness, — 
There are, in all, if I generalize correctly, three laws which 
afford the exclusive conditions of psychological legitimacy. 
These laws, or regulative conditions, are self-evident, and yet 
they seem never to have been clearly proposed to themselves 
by philosophers ; — in philosophical speculation, they have cer- 
tainly never been adequately obeyed. 

The First of these rules is, — That no fact be assumed as a 
fact of consciousness but what is ultimate and simple. This I 
would call the law of Parcimony. 

The Second, — that which I would style the law of Integrity, 
is — That the whole facts of consciousness be taken without 
reserve or hesitation, whether given as constituent, or as regu- 
lative data. 

The Third is, — That nothing but the facts of consciousness 
be taken, or, if inferences of reasoning be admitted, that these 
at least be recognized as legitimate only as deduced from, and 
in subordination to, the immediate data of consciousness, and 
every position rejected as illegitimate, which is contradictory of 
these. This I would call the law of Harmony. 

I shall consider these in their order. 

I. The first law, that of Parcimony, is, — That no fact be 
assumed as a fact of consciousness but what is ultimate and 
simple. What is a fact of consciousness ? This question, of 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 1 79 

all others, requires a precise and articulate answer ; but I have 
not found it adequately answered in any psychological author. 

Every fact of consciousness — 1. Primary and universal. — 
In the first place, — every mental phaenomenon may be called a 
fact of consciousness. But as we distinguish consciousness 
from the special faculties, though these are all only modifica- 
tions of consciousness, — only branches of which consciousness 
is the trunk, so we distinguish the special and derivative pha3- 
nomena of mind from those that are primary and universal, 
and give to the latter the name of facts of consciousness, as 
more eminently worthy of that appellation. In an act of Per- 
ception, for example, I distinguish the pen I hold in my hand, 
and my hand itself, from my mind perceiving them. This dis- 
tinction is a particular fact, — the fact of a particular faculty, 
Perception. But there is a general fact, a general distinction, 
of which this is only a special case. This general fact is the 
distinction of the Ego and non-Ego, and it belongs to conscious- 
ness as the general faculty. Whenever, therefore, in our anal- 
ysis of the intellectual phsenomena, we arrive at an element 
which we cannot reduce to a generalization from experience, 
but which lies at the root of all experience, and which we can- 
not, therefore, resolve into any higher principle, — this we 
properly call a fact of consciousness. Looking to such a fact 
of consciousness as the last result of an analysis, we call it an 
ultimate principle ; looking from it as the first constituent of all 
intellectual combination, we call it a primary principle. A fact 
of consciousness is, thus, a simple, and, as we regard it, either 
an ultimate or a primary, datum of intelligence. It obtains 
also various denominations ; sometimes it is called an a priori 
principle, sometimes a fundamental law of mind, sometimes a 
transcendental condition of thought, etc. 

2. Necessary, — But, in the second place, this, its character 
of ultimate priority supposes its character of necessity. It 
must be impossible not to think it. In fact, by its necessity 
alone can we recognize it as an original datum of intelligence, 
and distinguish it from any mere result of generalization and 
custom. 



180 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

3. Incomprehensible, — In the third place, this fact, as ulti"« 
mate, is also given to us with a mere belief of its reality ; in 
other words, consciousness reveals that it is, but not why or how 
it is. This is evident. Were this fact given us, not only with 
a belief, but with a knowledge of how or why it is, in that case 
it would be a derivative, and not a primary, datum. For that 
whereby we were thus enabled to comprehend its how and why^ 
— in other words, the reason of its existence, — • this would be 
relatively prior, and to it or to its antecedent must we ascend, 
until we arrive at that primary fact, in which we must at last 
believe, — which we must take upon trust, but which we could 
not comprehend, that is, think under a higher notion.^ 

^ Elsewhere, in the '' Dissertations Supplementary to Reid," the author 
gives a somewhat different, and more clearly explicated, enumeration of 
[" the essential notes and characters by which we are enabled to distinguish 
our original from our derivative convictions. These characters, I think, 
may be reduced to four ; — 1 °, their IncompreJiensihility — 2°, their Simplic- 
ity — 3°, their Necessity and absolute Universality — 4°, their comparative 
Evidence and Certainty. 

"1. In reference to the first; — A conviction is incomprehensible when 
there is merely given us in consciousness — That its object is (on eari) ; and 
when we are unable to comprehend through a higher notion or belief, Why 
or How it is (dion ean). When we are able to comprehend why or how 
a thing is, the beUef of the existence of that thing is not a primary datum 
of consciousness, but a subsumption under the cognition or belief which 
affords its reason. 

"2. As to the second; — It is manifest that if a cognition or belief be 
made up of, and can be explicated into, a plurality of cognitions or beliefs, 
that, as compound, it cannot be original. 

"3. Touching the third; — Necessity and Universality may be regarded 
as coincident. For when a belief is necessary, it is, eo ipso, universal ; and 
that a belief is universal, is a certain index that it must be necessary. To 
prove the necessity, the universality must, however, be absolute ; for a rel- 
ative universality indicates no more than custom and education, howbeit 
the' subjects themselves may deem that they follow only the dictates of 
nature. As St. Jerome has it — * Unaquasque gens hoc legem nature pu- 
tat, quod didicit/ 

*' 4. The fourth and last character of our original beliefs is their compara- 
tive Evidence and Certainty. This, along with tlie third, is well staeed by 
Aristotle. — ' What appears to all, that we affirm to be ; and he who rejects 
this belief will assuredly advance nothing better deserving of credence^ A*?^ 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUS^^ESS. 181 

A fact of consciousness is thus, — that whose existence is 
given and guaranteed by an original and necessary behef. But 
there is an important distinction to be her^ made, which has not 
only been overlooked by all philosophers, but has led some of 
the most distinguished into no inconsiderable errors. 

The fads of consciousness considered in two points of view. — 
The facts of consciousness are to be considered in two points 
of view ; either as evidencing their own ideal or phaenomenal 
existence, or as evidencing the objective existence of something 
else beyond them. A belief in the former is not identical with 
a belief in the latter. The one cannot, the other may possibly, 
be refused. In the case of a common witness, we cannot doubt 
the fact of his personal reality, nor the fact of his testimony as 
emitted ; — but we can always doubt the truth of that which his 
testimony avers. So it is with consciousness. We cannot pos- 
sibly refuse the fact of its evidence as given, but we may hesi- 
tate to admit that beyond itself of which it assures us. I shall 
explain by taking an example. In the act of External Per- 
ception, consciousness gives, as a conjunct fact, the existence of 
Me or Self as perceiving, and the existence of something 
different from Me or Self as perceived. Now the reality of 

again: — 'If we know and believe through certain original principles, we 
must know and believe these with paramount certainty ^ for the very reason 
that we know and believe all else through them/ And such are the truths 
in regard to which the Aphrodisian says, — ' though some men may ver- 
bally dissent, all men are in their hearts agreed/ This constitutes the first 
of Buffier's essential qualities of primary truths, which is, as he expresses 
it, — 'to be so clear, that if we attempt to prove or to disprove them, this 
can be done only by propositions which are manifestly neither more evident 
nor more certain/ 

"A good illustration of this character is afforded by the assurance — to 
which we have already so frequently referred — that in perception, mind is 
immediately cognizant of matter. How self can be conscious of not-self, 
how mind can be cognizant of matter, we do not know ; but we know as 
little how mind can be percipient of itself. In both cases, we only know the 
fact, on the authority of consciousness ; and when the conditions of the 
problem are rightly understood — when it is established that it is only the 
primary qualities of body which are apprehended in themselves, and tliis 
only in so far as they are in immediate relation to the organ of sense, the 
difficulty in the one case is not more than in the other.''] 

16 



182 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

this, as a subjective datum, — as an ide?J phsenomenoii, it is 
impossible to doubt without doubting the existence of conscious- 
ness, for consciousness is itself this fact ; and to doubt the 
existence of consciousness is absolutely impossible ; for as such 
a doubt could not exist, except in and through consciousness, it 
would, consequently, annihilate itself. We should doubt that 
we doubted. As contained, — as given, in an act of conscious- 
ness, the contrast of mind knowing and matter known cannot 
be denied. 

But the whole phasnomenon as given in consciousness may 
be admitted, and yet its inference disputed. It may be said, 
constiiousness gives the mental subject as perceiving an exter- 
nal object, contradistinguished from it as perceived ; all this we 
do not, and cannot, deny. But consciousness is only a phse- 
nomenon ; the contrast between the subject and object may be 
only apparent, not real ; the object given as an external reality 
may only be a mental representation, which the mind is, by an 
unknown law, determined unconsciously to produce, and to mis- 
take for something different from itself. All this may be said 
and believed, without self-contradiction ; — nay, all this has, by 
the immense majority of modern philosophers, been actually 
said and believed.^ 

^ This distinction is, perhaps, more distinctly stated and illustrated by the 
author in the " notes to Reid." ['* There is no scepticism possible touching 
the facts of consciousness in themselves. We cannot doubt that the phss- 
nomena of consciousness are real, in so far as we are conscious of them. I 
cannot doubt, for example, that I am actually conscious of a certain feeling 
of fragrance, and of certain perceptions of color, figure, etc., when I see and 
smell a rose. Of the reality of these, as experienced, I cannot doubt, be- 
cause they are facts of consciousness ; and of consciousness I cannot 
doubt, because such doubt being itself an act of consciousness, would con- 
tradict, and, consequently, annihilate itself. But of all beyond the mere 
phsenomena of which we are conscious, we may — without fear of self-con- 
tradiction, at least — doubt. I may, for instance, doubt whether the rose I 
see and smell has any existence beyond a phsenomena! existence in my 
consciousness. I cannot doubt that I am conscious of it as something dif- 
ferent from, self; but whether it have indeed any reality beyond my mind 
— whether the 7iot-self he not in truth only self — that I may philosophi- 
cally question. In like manner,! am conscious of the memory of a cer- 



^ 



:)Q 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 18 

The case of Memory, — In like manner, in an act oi jMera- 
oiy, conRciousness connects a present existence witli a past. I 
cannot deny the actual pha3nomenon, because my denial would 
be suicidal, but I can, without self-contradiction, assert that 
consciousness may be a false witness in regard to any former 
existence ; and I may maintain, if I please, that the memory of 
the past, in consciousness, is nothing but a phoenomenon, which 
has no reality beyond the present. There are many other facts 
of consciousness which we cannot but admit as ideal phcenom- 
ena, but may discredit as guaranteeing aught beyond their phse- 
nomenal existence itself. The legality of this doubt I do not 
at present consider, but only its possibility ; all that I have now 
in view being to show, that we must not confound, as has been 
done, the double import of the facts, and the two degrees of 
evidence for their reality. This mistake has, among others, 
been made by Mr. Stewart. " The belief," he says, " which 
accompanies consciousness, as to the present existence of its 
appropriate phaenomena, has been commonly considered as 
much less obnoxious to cavil, than any of the principles which 
philosophers are accustomed to assume as self-evident, in the 
formation of their metaphysical systems. No doubts on this 
head have yet been suggested by any philosopher, how scepti- 
cal soever ; even by those who have called in question the 
existence both of mind and of matter. And yet the fact is, 
that it rests on no foundation more solid than our belief of the 
existence of external objects ; or our belief, that other men 
possess intellectual powers and faculties similar to those of 
which we are conscious in ourselves. In all these cases, the 
only account that can be given of our belief is, that it forms a 
necessary part of our constitution ; against which metaphysi- 
cians may easily argue, so as to perplex the judgment, but of 
which it is impossible for us to divest ourselves for a moment, 
when we are called on to employ our reason either in the busi- 

tain past cent. Of the contents of this memory, as a phienomenon given 
in consciousness, scepticism is impossible. But I may by possibility demur 
to the reality of all beyond these contents and the sphere of present con 
sciousness."] 



184 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

ness of life, or in the pursuits of science. While we are under 
the influence of our appetites, passions, or affections, or e^en of 
a strong speculative curiosity, all those difficulties, which be- 
wildered us in the solitude of the closet, vanish before the 
essential principles of the human frame." 

Criticism of Steivarfs view, — With all the respect to which 
the opinion of so distinguished a philosopher as Mr. Stewart is 
justly entitled, I must be permitted to say, that I cannot but 
regard his assertion, — that the present existence of the phse- 
nomena of consciousness, and the reality of that to which these 
phsenomena bear witness, rest on a foundation equally solid, — 
as wholly untenable. The second fact, the fact testified to, may 
be worthy of all credit, — as I agree with Mr. Stewart in 
thinking that it is ; but still it does not rest on a foundation 
equally solid as the fact of the testimony itself. Mr. Stewart 
confesses, that, of the former, no doubt had ever been suggested 
by the boldest sceptic ; and the latter, in so far as it assures us 
of our having an immediate knowledge of the external world, — 
which is the case alleged by Mr. Stewart, — has been doubted, 
nay, denied, not merely by sceptics, but by modern philoso- 
phers almost to a man. This historical circumstance, therefore, 
of itself, would create a strong presumption, that the two facts 
must stand on very different foundations ; and this presumption 
is confirmed when we investigate what these foundations them- 
selves are. 

The one fact, — the fact of the testimony, is an act of con- 
sciousness itself; it cannot, therefore, be invalidated without 
self-contradiction. For, as we have frequently observed, to 
doubt the reality of that of which we are conscious is impossi- 
ble ; for as we can only doubt through consciousness, to doubt 
of consciousness is to doubt of consciousness by consciousness. 
If, on the one hand, we affirm the reality of the doubt, we 
thereby explicitly affirm the reality of consciousness, and con- 
tradict our doubt ; if, on the other hand, we deny the reality of 
consciousness, we implicitly deny the reality of our denial 
itself. Tims, in the act of perception, consciousness gives, as a 
conjunct fact, an ego or mind, and a non-ego or matter, known 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 185 

together, and contradistinguished from each other. Now, as a 
present phsenomenon, this double fact cannot possibly be denied. 
I cannot, therefore, refuse the fact, that, in j)erception, I am 
conscious of a phsenomenon, which I am compelled to regard as 
the attribute of something different from my mind or self. 
This I must perforce admit, or run into self-contradiction. 
But admitting this, may I not still, without self-contradiction, 
maintain that what I am compelled to view as the phsenomenon 
of something different from me is, nevertheless (unknown to 
me), only a modification of my mind? In this I admit the 
fact of the testimony of consciousness as given, but deny the 
truth of its report. Whether this denial of the truth of con- 
sciousness, as a witness, is or is not legitimate, we are not, at 
this moment, to consider : all I have in view at present is, as I 
said, to show that we must distinguish- in consciousness two 
kinds of facts, — the fact of consciousness testifying, and the 
fact of which consciousness testifies ; and that we must not, as 
Mr. Stewart has done, hold that we can as little doubt of the 
fact of the existence of an external world, as of the fact that 
consciousness gives, in mutual contrast, the phsenomenon of self 
in contrast to the phaenomenon of not-self. 

Results of the Law of Parcimony, — • Under this first law, 
let it, therefore, be laid down, in the first place, that by a fact 
of consciousness, properly so called, is meant a primary and 
universal fact of our intellectual being ; and, in the second, that 
such facts are of two kinds, — 1 °, The facts given in the act of 
consciousness itself; and, 2°, The facts which consciousness 
does not at once give, but to the reality of which it 'only bears 
evidence. And as simplification is always a matter of impor- 
tance, we may throw out of account altogether the former class 
of these facts ; for of such no doubt can be, or has been, enter- 
tained. It is only the authority of these facts as evidence of 
something beyond themselves, — that is, only the second class 
of facts, — which become matter of discussion ; it is not the 
reality of consciousness that we have to prove, but its veracity. 

II. The Law of Lntegrity. — The second rule is, That the 
whole facts of consciousness be taken without reserve or hesi- 

16* 



186 THE AUTHORITy OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

tatioii, whether given as constituent, or as regulative, data. 
This rule is too manifest to require much elucidation. As phi- 
losophy is only a development of the phsenomena and laws of 
consciousness, it is evident that philosophy can only be com- 
plete, as it comprehends, in one harmonious system, all the con- 
stituent, and all the regulative, facts of consciousness. K any 
phaenomenon or constituent fact of consciousness be omitted, the 
system is not complete ; if any law or regulative fact is ex- 
cluded, the system is not legitimate. 

III. The Law of Harmony. — The violation of this second 
rule is, in general, connected with a violation of the third, and 
we shall accordingly illustrate them together. The third is, — 
That nothing but the facts of consciousness be taken ; or, if 
inferences of reasoning be admitted, that these at least be 
recognized as legitimate only as deduced from, and only in sub- 
ordination to, the immediate data of consciousness, and that 
every position be rejected as illegitimate which is contradictory 
to these. 

The truth and necessity of this rule are not less evident than 
the truth and necessity of the preceding. Philosophy is only a 
systematic evolution of the contents of consciousness, by the 
instrumentality of consciousness ; it, therefore, necessarily sup- 
poses, in both respects, the veracity of consciousness. 

How Scepticism arises out of partial dogmatic systems, — But, 
though this be too evident to admit of doubt, and though no 
philosopher has ever openly thrown off allegiance to the au-. 
thority of consciousness, we find, nevertheless, that its testi- 
mony has been silently overlooked, and systems established 
upon principles in direct hostility to the primary data of intelli- 
gence. It is only such a violation of the integrity of conscious- 
ness, by the dogmatist, that affords, to the sceptic, the founda- 
tion on which he can establish his proof of the nullity of 
philosophy. The sceptic cannot assail the truth of the facts of 
consciousness in themselves. In attempting this, he w^ould run 
at once into self-contradiction. In the first place, he would 
enact the pai*t of a dogmatist, — that is, he would positively, 
dogmatically, establish his doubt. In the second, waiving this. 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 1«7 

how can he accomplish what he thus proposes ? For why ? 
He must attack consciousness either from a higher ground, or 
from consciousness itself. Higher ground than consciousness 
there is none ; he must, therefore, invalidate the facts of con- 
sciousness from the ground of consciousness itself. On this 
ground, he cannot, as we have seen, deny the facts of conscious- 
ness as given ; he can only attempt to invalidate their testi- 
mony. But this again can be done only by showing that 
consciousness tells different tales, — that its evidence is contra- 
dictory, — that its data are repugnant. But this no sceptic has 
ever yet been able to do. Neither does the sceptic or negative 
philosopher himself assume his principles ; he only accepts 
those on which the dogmatist or positive philosopher attempts to 
establish his doctrine ; and this doctrine he reduces to zero, by 
showing that its principles are either mutually repugnant, or 
repugnant to facts of consciousness, on which, though it may 
not expressly found, still, as facts of consciousness, it cannot 
refuse to recognize without denying the possibility of philosophy 
in general. 

Violations of these laws in Dr, Brown^s doctrine of external 
perception, — I shall illustrate the violation of this rule by ex- 
amples taken from the writings of the late ingenious Dr. Thomas 
Brown. — I must, however, premise that this philosopher, so 
far from being singular in his easy way of appealing to, or 
overlooking, the facts of consciousness, as he finds them con- 
venient or inconvenient for his purpose, supplies only a speci- 
men of the too ordinary style of philosophizing. Now, you 
must know, that Dr. Brown maintains the common doctrine of 
the philosophers, that we have no immediate knowledge of any 
thing beyond the states or modifications of our own minds^ — 
that we are only conscious of the ego, — the non-ego, as known, 
being only a modification of self, which mankind at large are 
illusively determined to view as external and different from 
self. This doctrine is contradictory to the fact to which conscious- 
ness testifies, — that the object of which we are conscious in per- 
ception, is the external reality as existing, and not merely its 
representation in the percipient mind. That this is the fact 



188 THE AUTHORITY OF jCONSClOUSNESS. 

testified to by consciousness, and believed by tlie common sense 
of mankind, is admitted even by those philosophers who reject 
the truth of the testimony and the belief. It is of no conse- 
quence to us at present what are the grounds on which the 
principle is founded, that the mind can have no knowledge of 
aught besides itself; it is sufficient to observe, that, this princi- 
ple being contradictory to the testimony of consciousness, Di\ 
Brown, by adopting it, virtually accuses consciousness of false- 
hood. But if consciousness be false in its testimony to one fact, 
we can have no confidence in its testimony to any other ; and 
Brown, having himself belied the veracity of consciousness, 
c-annot, therefore, again appeal to this veracity as to a credible 
authority. But he is not thus consistent. Although he does 
not allow that we have any knowledge of the existence of an 
outer world, the existence of that world he still maintains. 
And on what grounds ? He admits the reasoning of the ideal- 
ist, that is, of the philosopher who denies the reality of the 
material universe, — he admits this to be invincible. How, 
then, is this conclusion avoided ? Simply by appealing to the 
universal belief of mankind in favor of the existence of exter- 
nal things,"^ — that is, to the authority of a fact of conscious- 
ness. But to him this appeal is incompetent. For, in the 
first place, having already virtually given up, or rather posi- 
tively rejected, the testimony of consciousness, when conscious- 
ness deposed to our immediate knowledge of external things, — 
how can he even found upon the veracity of that mendacious 
principle, when bearing evidence to the unknown existence of 
external things ? / cannot hut believe that the material reality 
exists ; therefore, it does exist, for consciousness does not deceive 

^ [Tennemami, speaking of Plato, says : " The illusion that things in them* 
selves are cognizable, is so natural, that we need not marvel if even philoso- 
phers have not been able to emancipate themselves from the prejudice. 
The common sense of mankind (gemeine Menschenverstand), which re- 
mains steadfast within the sphere of experience, recognizes no distinction 
between things in themselves [unknown reality existing] and phenomena 
'[representation, object known] ; and the philosophizing reason, commences 
therewith its attempt to investigate the foundation of this knowledge, and 
to recaT itself into system/'] — Quoted in Notes to Discussions, p. 92. 



THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 189 

us, — this reasoning Dr. Brown employs when defending his 
assertion of an outer world. I cannot but believe that the mate- 
rial reality is the object immediately known in perception ; there- 
fore, it is immediately known, for consciousness does not deceive 
us, — this reasoning Dr. Brown rejects when establishing the 
foundation of his system. In the one case, he maintains, — this 
belief, because irresistible, is true ; in the other case, he main- 
tains, — this belief, though irresistible, is false. Consciousness 
is veracious in the former belief, mendacious in the latter. I 
approbate the one, I reprobate the other. The inconsistency 
of this is apparent. It becomes more palpable when we con- 
sider, in the second place, that the belief which Dr. Brown 
assumes as true rests on — is, in fact, only the reflex of — the be- 
lief which he repudiates as false. Why do mankind believe 
in the existence of an outer world? They do not beheve in it 
as in something unknown ; but, on the contrary, they believe it 
to exist, only because they believe that they immediately know 
it to exist. The former behef is only as it is founded on the 
latter. Of all absurdities, therefore, the greatest is to assert, — 
on the one hand, that consciousness deceives us in the behol 
that we know any material object to exist, and, on the other, 
that the material object exists, because, though on false grounds, 
we believe it to exist. 

Brown^s proof of our Personal Identity, — I may give you 
another instance, from the same author, of the wild work that 
the application of this rule makes, among philosophical systems 
not legitimately established. Dr. Brown, with other philoso- 
phers, rests the proof of our Personal Identity, and of our 
Mental Individuality, on the ground of beliefs, which, as " in- 
tuitive, universal, immediate, and irresistible," he, not unjustly, 
regards as the "internal and never-ceasing voice of our Cre- 
ator, — revelations from on high, omnipotent [and veracious] 
as their Author." To him this argument is, however, incompe- 
tent, as contradictory. 

What we know of self or person, we know only as a fact of 
consciousness. In our perceptive consciousness, there is re- 
vealed, in contrast to each, a self and a not-self This contra«?t 



190 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

is either true or false. If true, then am I conscious of an ohject 
different from m^j — that is, I have an immediate perception of 
the external reahty. If false, then am I not conscious of any 
thing different from me, but what I am constrained to regard as 
not-me is only a modification of me, which, by an illusion of my 
nature, I mistake, and must mistake, for something different 
from me. 

Now, will it be credited that Dr. Brown — and be it remem- 
bered that I adduce him only as the representative of a great 
majority of philosophers — affirms or denies, just as he finds it 
convenient or inconvenient, this fact, — this distinction of con- 
sciousness ? In his doctrine of Perception, he explicitly denies 
its truth, in denying that mind is conscious of aught beyond 
itself. But, in other parts of his philosophy, this false fact, this 
iUusive distinction, and the deceitful belief founded thereupon, 
are appealed to (I quote his expressions), as "revelations from 
on high, — as the never-ceasing voice of our Creator," etc. 

Thus, on the veracity of this mendacious belief. Dr. Brown 
establishes his proof of our personal identity. Touchmg the 
object of perception, when its evidence is inconvenient, this 
belief is quietly passed over, as incompetent to distinguish not- 
self from self; in the question regarding our personal identity, 
where its testimony is convenient, it is clamorously cited as an 
inspired witness, exclusively competent to distinguish self from 
not-self. Yet why, if, in the one case, it mistook self for not- 
self, it may not, in the other, mistake not-self for self, would 
appear a problem not of the easiest solution. 

And of our Individuality, — The same belief, with the same 
inconsistency, is called in to prove the Individuality of mind. 
But if we are fallaciously determined, in our perceptive con- 
sciousness, to regard mind both as mind and as matter, — for, 
on Brown's hypothesis, in perception, the object perceived is 
only a mode of the percipient subject, — if, I say, in this act,. I 
must view what is supposed one and indivisible, as plural, and 
different, and opposed, — how is it possible to appeal to the 
authority of a testimony so treacherous as consciousness for an 
evidence of the real simplicity of the thinking principle? 



. THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. . 191 

How, says the materialist to Brown, — how can you appeal 
against me to the testimony of consciousness, which you your- 
self reject when against your own opinions, and how can you, 
on the authority of that testimony, maintain the unity of self to 
be more than an illusive appearance, when self and not-self, as 
known to consciousness, are, on your own hypothesis, confess- 
edly only modifications of the same percipient subject? If, on 
your doctrine, consciousness can split what you hold to be one 
and indivisible into two, not only different but opposed, exist- 
ences, — what absurdity is there, on mine, that consciousness 
should exhibit as phsenomenally one, what we both hold to be 
really manifold? If you give the lie to consciousness in favor 
of your hypothesis, you can have no reasonable objection that I 
should give it the lie in favor of mine. If you can maintain 
that not-self is only an illusive phsenomenon, — being, in fact, 
only self in disguise ; I may also maintain, e contra, that self 
is only an illusive phsenomenon, — and that the apparent unity 
of the ego is only the result of an organic harmony of action 
between the particles of matter. 

The absolute and universal veracity of consciousness, — From 
these examples, the truth of the position I maintain is mani- 
fest, — that a fact of consciousness can only be rejected on the 
supposition of falsity, and that, the falsity of one fact of con- 
sciousness being admitted, the truth of no other fact of con- 
sciousness can be maintained. The legal brocard, Falsus in 
uno, falsus in omnibus, is a rule not more applicable to other 
witnesses than to consciousness. . Thus, every system of plii- 
losophy which implies the negation of any fact of conscious- 
ness, is not only necessarily unable, without self-contradiction, 
to establish its own truth by any appeal to consciousness ; it is 
also unable, without self-contradiction, to appeal to conscious- 
ness against the falsehood of any other system. If the abso- 
lute and universal veracity of consciousness be once surren- 
dered, every system is equally true, or rather all are equally 
false ; philosophy is impossible, for it has now no instrument by 
which truth can be discovered, — no standard by which it can 
be tried ; the root of our nature is a lie. But though it is thus 



192 THE AUTHORITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. • 

manifestly the common interest of every scheme of philosophy 
to preserve intact the integrity of consciousness, almost every 
scheme of philosophy is only another mode in which this integ- 
rity has been violated. If, therefore, I am able to prove the 
fact of this various violation, and to show that the facts of con- 
sciousness have never, or hardly ever, been fairly evolved, it 
will follow, as I said, that no reproach can be justly addressed 
to consciousness as an ill-informed, or vacillating, or perfidious 
witness, but to those only who were too proud, or too negligent, 
to accept its testimony, to employ its materials, and to obey its 
laws. And on this supposition, so far should we be from de- 
spairing of the future advance of philosophy from the expe- 
rience of its past wanderings, that we ought, on the contrary, to 
anticipate for it a steady progress, the moment that philosophers 
can be persuaded to look to consciousness, and to consciousness 
alone, for their materials and their rules. 



CHAPTER XII. 

VIOLATIONS OF THE AUTHORltY OF CONSCIOUSNESS JN 
VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

No retrenchment possible of the facts of consciousness, — 
As all philosophy is evolved from consciousness, so, on the 
truth of consciousness, the possibility of all philosophy is de- 
pendent. Hence, it is manifest, at once and without further 
reasoning, that no philosophical theory can pretend to truth 
except that single theory which comprehends and develops the 
fact of consciousness on which it founds, without retrenchment, 
distortion, or addition. Were a philosophical system to pretend 
that it culls out all that is correct in a fact of consciousness, 
and rejects only what is erroneous, — what would be the inev- 
itable result ? In the first place, this system admits, and must 
admit, that it is wholly dependent on consciousness for its con- 
stituent elements, and for the rules by which these are selected 
and arranged, — in short, that it is wholly dependent on con- 
sciousness for its knowledge of true and false. But, in the 
second place, it pretends to select a part, and to reject a part, 
of a fact given and guaranteed by consciousness. Now, by 
what criterion, by what standard^ can it discriminate the true 
from the false in this fact ? This criterion must be either con- 
sciousness itself, or an instrument different from consciousness. 
If it be an instrument different from consciousness, what is it ? 
No such instrument has ever yet been named — has ever yet 
been heard of. If it exist, and if it enable us to criticize the 
data of consciousness, it must be a higher source of knowledge 
than consciousness, and thus it will replace consciousness as the 
first and generative principle of philosophy. But of any prin- 
ciple of this character, different from consciousness, philosophy 
17 (193) 



194 INTEGRITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

is yet in ignorance. It remains unenounced and unknown. It 
may, therefore, be safely assumed not to be. 

The standard, therefore, by which any philosophical theory 
can profess to regulate its choice among the elements of any 
fact of consciousness, must be consciousness itself. Now, mark 
the dilemma. The theory makes consciousness the discrim- 
inator between what is true and what is false in its own testi- 
mony. But if consciousness be assumed to be a mendacious 
witness in certain parts of its evidence, how can it be pre- 
sumed a veracious witness in others ? This it cannot be. It 
must be held as false in all, if false in any ; and the philosophi- 
cal theory which starts from this hypothesis, starts from a nega- 
tion of itself in the negation of philosophy in general. Again, 
on the hypothesis that part of the deliverance of consciousness 
is true, part false, how can consciousness enable us to distin- 
guish these ? This has never yet been shown ; it is, in fact, 
inconceivable. But, further, how is it discovered that any part 
of a datum of consciousness is false, another true ? This can 
only be done if the datum involve a contradiction. But if the 
facts of consciousness be contradictory, then is consciousness a 
principle of falsehood ; and the greatest of conceivable folHes 
would be an attempt to employ such a principle in the discovery 
of truth. And such an act of folly is every philosophical the- 
ory, which, departing from an admission that the data of con- 
sciousness are false, would still pretend to build out of them a 
system of truth. But, on the other hand, if the data of con- 
sciousness are not contradictory, and consciousness, therefore, 
not a self-convicted deceiver, how is the unapparent falsehood 
of its evidence to be evinced ? This is manifestly impossible ; 
for such falsehood is not to be presumed ; and, we have pre- 
viously seen, there i& no higher principle by which the tes- 
timony of consciousness can be canvassed and redargued. 
Consciousness, therefore, is to be presumed veracious ; a philo- 
sophical theory which accepts one part of the harmonious data 
of consciousness, and rejects another, is manifestly a mere 
caprice, a chimera not worthy of consideration, far less of 
articulate disproof. It is ah initio null. 



THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 195 

The Duality of Consciousness. — In order still further to 
evince to you the importance of the precept (namely, tha,t we 
must look to consciousness, and to consciousness alone, for the 
materials and rules of philosophy), and to show articulately 
how all the variations of philosophy have been determined by 
its neglect, I will take those facts of consciousness which lie at 
the very root of philosophy, and with which, consequently, all 
philosophical systems are necessarily and primarily conversant ; 
and point out how, besides the one true doctrine which accepts 
and simply states the fact as given, there are always as many 
various actual theories as there are various possible modes of 
distorting or mutilating this fact. I shall commence with that 
great fact to which I have already alluded, — that we are im- 
mediately conscious in perception of an Ego and a Non-ego^ 
known together, and known in contrast to each other. This is 
the fact of the Duality of Consciousness. It is clear and 
manifest. When I concentrate my attention in the simplest act 
of perception, I return from my observation with the most 
irresistible conviction of two facts, or rather two branches of 
the same fact ; — that I am, — and that something different 
from me exists. In this act, I am conscious of myself as the 
perceiving subject, and of an external reality as the object per- 
ceived ; and I am conscious of both existences in the sam^e 
indivisible moment of intuition. The knowledge of the subject 
does not precede, nor follow, the knowledge of the object; — 
neither determines, neither, is determined by, the other. 

The fact of this testimony allowed even by those who deny its 
truth, — Such is the fact of perception revealed in conscious- 
ness, and as it determines mankind in general in their almost 
equal assurance of the reality of an external world, as of the 
existence of their own minds. Consciousness declares our 
knowledge of material qualities to be intuitive or immediate, — 
not representative or mediate. Nor is the fact, as given^ 
denied even by those who disallow its truth. So clear is the 
deliverance, that even the philosophers who reject an intuitive 
perception, find it impossible not to admit, that their doctrine 
stands decidedly opposed to the voice of consciousness, — to the 



196 THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

natural convictions of mankind. I may give you som^ exam- 
ples of the admission of this fact, which it is of the utmost 
importance to place beyond the possibility of doubt. I quote, 
of course, only from those philosophers whose systems are in 
contradiction of the testimony of consciousness, which they are 
forced to admit. 

The following is [Reid's quotation] from Berkeley, tow^ards 
the conclusion of the work, in which his system of Idealism is 
established : — " When Hylas is at last entirely converted, he 
observes to Philonous, — ' After all, the controversy about mat- 
ter, in the strict acceptation of it, lies altogether between you 
and the philosophers, whose principles, I acknowledge, are not 
near so natural, or so agreeable to the common sense of man- 
kind and Holy Scripture, as yours.' Philonous observes in 
the end, — ' That he does not pretend to be a setter-up of new 
notions ; his endeavors tend only to unite, and to place in a 
clearer light, that truth which was before shared between the 
vulgar and the philosophers ; the former being of opinion, that 
those things they immediately perceive are the real things ; and 
the latter, that the things immediately perceived are ideas 
which exist only in the mind ; which two things put together 
do, in effect, constitute the substance of what he advances.' 
And he concludes by observing, — ' That those principles which 
at first view lead to scepticism, pursued to a certain point, bring 
men back to common sense.' " 

Here you will notice that Berkeley admits that the common 
belief of mankind is, that the things immediately perceived are 
not representa;tive objects in the mind, but the external realities 
themselves. Hume, in like manner, makes the same confes- 
sion ; and the confession of that sceptical Idealist, or sceptical 
Nihilist, is of the utmost weight. 

" It seems evident that men are carried by a natural instinct 
or prepossession to repose faith in their senses ; and that, with- 
out any reasoning, or even almost before the use of reason, we 
always suppose an external universe, which depends not on our 
perception, but would exist though we and every sensible crea- 
ture were absent or annihilated. Even the animal creation are 



THE DUALITY OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 197 

governed by a like opinion, and preserve this belief of external 
objects in all their thoughts, designs, and actions. 

" It seems also evident that, when men follow this blind and 
powerful instinct of nature, they always suppose the very im- 
ages presented by the senses to be the external objects, and 
never entertain any suspicion that the one are nothing but 
representations of the other. This very table, which we see 
white, and which we feel hard, is believed to exist, independent 
of our perception, and to be something external to our mind, 
which perceives it. Our presence bestows not being on it, — 
our absence does not annihilate it. It preserves its existence 
^uniform and entire, independent of the situation of intelligent 
beings, who perceive or contemplate it 

" Do you follow the instincts and propensities of nature, may 
they say, in assenting to the veracity of sense ? But these lead 
you to believe that the very perception or sensible image is the 
external object. Do you disclaim this principle, in order to 
embrace a more rational opinion, that the perceptions are only 
representations of something external ? You here depart from 
your natural propensities and more obvious sentiments ; and yet 
are not able to satisfy your reason, which can never iind any 
convincing argument from experience to prove that the per- 
ceptions are connected with any external objects." 

We are conscious of an immediate knowledge of the not-self — 
The fact that consciousness does testify to an immediate knowl- 
edge by mind of an object different from any modification. of its 
own, is thus admitted even by those philosophers who still do 
not hesitate to deny the truth of the testimony ; for to say that 
all men do naturally believe in such a knowledge, is only, in 
other words, to say that they believe it upon the authority of 
consciousness. A fact of consciousness, and a fact of the com- 
mon sense of mankind, are only various expressions of the 
isame import. We may, therefore, lay it down as an undis- 
puted truth, that consciousness gives, as an ultimate fact, a 
primitive duality ; — a knowledge of the Ego in relation and 
contrast to the Non-ego ; and a knowledge of the Non-ego in 
relation and contrast to the Ego. The Ego and Non-ego are, 

17* 



198 VARIOUS THEOFJES OF FEIiCEFTIOJST. 

thus, given in an original synthesis, as conjoined in the unity of 
knowledge, and, in an original antithesis, as opposed in the con- 
trariety of existence. In other words, we are conscious of them 
in an indivisible act of knowledge together and at once, — but 
we are conscious of them as, in themselves, different and exclu- 
sive of each other. 

Again, consciousness not only gives us a duality, but it gives 
its elements in equal counterpoise and independence. The Ego 
and Non-ego — mind and matter — are not only given together, 
but in absolute coequality. The one does not precede, the other 
does not follow ; and, in their mutual relations, each is equally 
dependent, equally independent. Such is the fact as given in 
and by consciousness. 

Different philosophical systems which deny this fact, — Phi- 
losophers have not, however, been content to accept the fact in 
its integrity, but have been pleased to accept it only under such 
qualifications as it suited their systems to devise. In truth, 
there are just as many different philosophical systems originat- 
ing in this fact, as it admits of various possible modifications. 
An enumeration of these modifications, accordingly, affords an 
enumeration of philosophical theories. 

Natural Realists. — In the first place, there is the grand 
division of philosophers into those who do, and those who do 
not, accept the fact in its integrity. Of modern philosophers, 
almost all are comprehended under the latter category ; while 
of the former, — if we do not remount to the Schoohnen and 
the ancients, — I am only aware of a single philosopher before 
Reid, who did not reject, at least in part, the fact as conscious- 
ness affords it. As it is always expedient to possess a precise 
name for a precise distinction, I would be inclined to denomi- 
nate those who implicitly acquiesce in the primitive duality as 
given in consciousness, the Natural Realists or Natural Dual- 
ists ; and their doctrine. Natural Realism or Natural Dualism. 

In the second place, the philosophers who do not accept the 
fact, and the whole fact, may be divided and subdivided into 
various classes by various principles of distribution. 

Suhstaatialists and Nihilists- — • The first subdivision will be 



VARIOUS THEOKIES OF PERCEPTION. 199 

^■aken ft-om the total, or partial, rejections of the import of the 
fact. I have previously shown you that to deny any fact of 
consciousness as an actual phaenomenon is utterly impossible. 
But, though necessarily admitted as a present phaenomenon, the 
import of this phaenomenon, — all beyond our actual conscious- 
ness of its existence, may be denied. We are able, v^ithout 
self-contradiction, to suppose, and, consequently, to assert, that 
all to which the phaenomenon of which we are conscious refers, 
is a deception ; — that, for example, the past to which an act of 
memory refers, is only an illusion involved in our consciousness 
of the present ; — that the unknown subject to which every 
phaenomenon of which we are conscious involves a reference, 
has no reality beyond this reference itself; — in short, that all 
our knowledge of mind or matter is only a consciousness of 
various bundles of baseless appearances. This doctrine, as re- 
fusing a substantial reality to the phaenomenal existence of 
which we are conscious, is called Nihilism ; and, consequently, 
philosophers, as they affirm or deny the authority of conscious- 
ness in guaranteeing a substratum or substance to the mani- 
festations of the Ego and Non-ego, are divided into Realists 
or Substantialists, and Nihilists or Non-Substantialists. Of posi- 
tive or dogmatic Nihilism, there is no example in modern phi- 
losophy ; for Oken's deduction of the universe from the original 
nothing, — the nothing being equivalent to the Absolute or God, 

— is only the paradoxical foundation of a system of Realism ; 
and, in ancient philosophy, we know too little of the book of 
Gorgias the Sophist, entitled 2I£^^ rov [xrj ovrog, i] tcsqI cpvascog, 

— Concerning Nature or the Non-existent, — to be able to af- 
firm whether it were maintained by him as a dogmatic and bona 
fide doctrine. But as a sceptical conclusion from the premises 
of previous philosophers, we have an illustrious example of 
Nihilism in Hume ; and the celebrated Fichte admits that the 
speculative principles of his own Idealism would, unless cor- 
rected by his practical, terminate in this result.* 

=* [In the Notes to Reid, Hamilton translates the following passage from 
Fichte's " Destination of Man," to prove that Eichtean idealism terminates 
in thorough- going Nihilism. "The sum total/' says Fichte, "is this: — 



200 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

Realists divided into Hypothetical Dualists and Moni '< — ■ 
The Realists t or Substantialists are again divided into Dualists, 

there is absolutely nothing permanent either without or within me, but only 
an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, not 
even of my own. I myself know nothing and am nothing. Images (Bil- 
der) there are ; they constitute all that apparently exists, and what they 
know of themselves is after the manner of images ; images that pass and 
vanish without there being aught to witness their transition ; that consist 
in fact of the images of images, without significance and without an aim. 
I myself am one of these images ; nay, I am not even thus much, but onh 
a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous 
dream, without a life to dream of, and without a mind to dream ; into a 
dream made up oi • y of a dream of itself. Perception is a dream • thought — 
the source of all the existence and all the reality which I imagine to myself ot 
my existence, of my power, of my destination — is the dream of that dream."] 
t [The term Real \resi\is), though always importing the existent, is used in 
various significations and oppositions. The following occur to me : 

1. As denoting existence, in contrast to the nomenclature of existence, — 
the thing, as contradistinguished from its name. Thus we have definitions 
and divisions real, and definitions and divisions nominal or verbal. 

2. As expressing the existent opposed to the non-existent, — a something in 
contrast to a nothing. In this sense, the diminutions of existence, to which 
reality, in the follocving significations, is counterposed, are all real. 

3. As denoting material or external, in contrast to mental, spiritual, or in- 
ternal, existence. This meaning is improper; so, therefore, is the term 
Realism, as equivalent to Materialism, in the nomenclature of some recent 
philosophers. 

4. As synonymous with actual; and this (a. as opposed to potential, b.) 
as opposed to possible existence. 

5. As denoting absolute or irrespective, in opposition to phenomenal or rela- 
tive, existence ; in other words, as denoting things in themselves, and out 
of relation to all else, in contrast to things in relation to, and as known by, 
intelligences, like men, who know only under the conditions of plurality 
and difference. In this sense, which is rarely employed and may be neg- 
lected, the Real is only another term for the Unconditioned or Absolute^ — • 
TO bvTCjg bv. 

6. As indicating existence considered a^ a subsistence in nature (ens extra 
animam, ens naturce), it stands counter to an existence considered as a 
representation in thought. In this sense, reale, in the language of the older 
philosophy (Scholastic, Cartesian, Gassendian), as applied to esse or ens, is 
opposed to intentionale, notionale, conceptibile, imaginarium, rationis, cognitionis, 
in anima, in intellectu, prout cognitum, ideale, etc. ; and corresponds with a 
parte rei, as opposed to a parte intellectus, — with subjectivum, as opposed to 



VARIOUS THEOKIES OF PERCEPTION. 201 

and Unitarians or Monists, according as tliey are, or are 
not, contented with the testimony of consciousness to the ulti- 
mate duphcity of subject and object in perception. The Dual- 
ists, of whom we are now first speaking, are distinguished from 
the Natural Dualists of whom we formerly spoke, in this ; — 
that the latter establish the existence of the two worlds of mind 
and matter on the immediate knowledge we possess of both 
series of phaenomena, — a knowledge of which consciousness 
assures us ; whereas the former, surrendering the veracity of 
consciousness to our immediate knowledge of material pha3nom- 

objectivumy — with, proprium, principale, andJundamentaJe, as opposed to vica- 
rium, — with materiale, as opposed to formale, and with jurmale in seipso, and 
entitatioimij as opposed to representativum, etc. Under this head, in the 
vacilkiting language of our more recent philosophy, real approximates to, 
but is hardly convertible with, objective, in contrast to subjective in the signifi- 
cation there prevalent. 

7. In close connection with the sixth meaning, real, in the last place, de- 
notes an identity or difference founded on the conditions of the existence 
of a thing in itself, in contrast to an identity or difference founded only on 
the relation or point of view in which the thing may be regarded by the 
thinking subject. In this sense it is opposed to logical cr rational, the terms 
being here employed in a peculiar meaning. Thus a thing which, realli/ {re) 
or in itself, is one and indivisible, may logicallf/ (ratione), by the mind, be con- 
sidered as diverse and plural ; and vice versa, what are really diverse and 
plural, may logically be viewed as one and indivisible. As an example of 
the former; — the sides and angles of a triangle (or trilateral), as mutually 
correlative — as together making up the same simple figure — and as, with- 
out destruction of that figure, actually inseparable from it, and from each 
otlier, are really one ; but inasmuch as they have peculiar relations which 
may, in thought, be considered severally and for themselves, they are logi- 
cally twofold. In like manner, take apprehension and judgment. These 
are really one, as each involves the other (for we apprehend only as we 
judge som.ethrng to be, and we judge only as we apprehend the existence 
of the terms compared), and as together they constitute a single indivisible 
act of cognition ; but they are logically double, inasmuch as, by mental ab- 
straction, they may be viewed each for itself, and as a distinguishable ele- 
ment of thought. As an example of the latter ; individual things, as John, 
James, Richard, etc., are really (numerically) different, as coexisting in 
nature only under the condition of plurality ; but, as resembling objects 
constituting a single class or notion (man), they are logically consi<lered 
(gencrically or specifically) identical and one.] — Diss. supp. to Reid. 



202 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

ena, and, consequently, oar immediate knowledge of the exist- 
ence of matter, still endeavor, hj various hypotheses and 
reasonings, to maintain the existence of an unknown external 
world. As we denominate those who maintain a dualism as 
involved in the fact of consciousness. Natural Dualists ; so we 
may style those Dualists who deny the evidence of conscious- 
ness to our immediate knowledge of aught beyond the sphere 
of mind, Hypothetical Dualists or Cosmothetic Idealists. 

To the class of Cosmothetic Idealists, the great majority of 
modern philosophers are to be referred. Denying an imme- 
diate or intuitive knowledge of the external reality, whose 
existence they maintain, they, of course, hold a doctrine of 
mediate or representative perception ; and, according to the 
various modifications of that doctrine, they are again subdi- 
vided into those who view, in the immediate object of percep- 
tion, a representative entity present to the mind, but not a mere 
mental modification, and into those who hold that the immediate 
object is only a representative modification of the mind itself. 
It is not always easy to determine to which of these classes 
some philosophers belong. To the former, or class holding the 
cruder hypothesis of representation, certainly belong the follow- 
ers of Democritus and Epicurus, those Aristotelians who held 
the vulgar doctrine of species (Aristotle himself was probably 
a Natural Dualist), and in recent times, among many others, 
Malebranche, Berkeley, Clarke, Newton, Abraham Tucker, 
etc. To these is also, but problematically, to be referred 
Locke. To the second, or class holding the finer hypothesis of 
representation, belong, without any doubt, many of the Pla- 
tonists, Leibnitz, Arnauld, Crousaz, Condillac, Kant, etc. ; and 
to this class is also, probably, to be referred Descartes. 

Monists subdivided, — The philosophical Unitarians or Mo- 
nists reject the testimony of consciousness to the ultimate dual- 
ity of the subject and object in perception, but they arrive 
at the unity of these in different ways^ Some admit the tes- 
timony of consciousness to the equipoise of the mental and 
material phaenomena, and do not attempt to reduce either mind 
to matter, or matter to mind. They reject, however, the evi- 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 203 

dence of consciousness to tlieir antitlicsis in existence, and 
maintain that mind and matter arc only phrenomenal modifica- 
tions of the same common substance. This is the doctrine of 
Absolute Identity, — a doctrine of which the most illustrious 
representatives among recent philosophers are Schelling, Ilegel, 
and Cowsin. Others, again, deny the evidence of conscious- 
ness to the equipoise of the subject and object as coordinate 
and cooriginal elements ; and as the balance is inclined in favor 
of the one relative or the other, two opposite schemes of 
psychology are determined. If the subject be taken as the 
original and .genetic, and the object evolved from it as its pro- 
duct, the theory of Idealism is established. On the other hand, 
if the object be assumed as the original and genetic, and the 
subject evolved from it as its product, the theory of Materialism 
is established. 

Opposite errors often counteract each other. — In regard to 
these two opposites schemes of a one-sided philosophy, I would 
at present make an observation to which it may be afterwards 
necessary to recur ; — namely, that a philosophical system is 
often prevented from falling into absolute Idealism or absolute 
Materialism, and held in a kind of vacillating equilibrium, not 
in consequence of being based on the fact of consciousness, but 
from the ^ circumstance, that its Materialistic tendency in one 
opinion happens to be counteracted by its Idealistic tendency in 
another ; — two opposite errors, in short, cooperating to the 
same result as one truth. On this ground is to be explained, 
why the philosophy of Locke and Condillac did not more easily 
slide into Materialism. Deriving our whole knowledge, medi- 
ately or immediately, from the senses, this philosophy seemed 
destined to be fairly analyzed into a scheme of Materialism ; 
but from this it was fpr a long time preserved, in consequence 
of involving a doctrine, which, on the other hand, if not coun- 
teracted, would have naturally carried it over into Idealism. 
This was the doctrine of a Representative Perception. The 
legitimate issue of such a doctrine is now admitted, on aU 
hands, to be absolute Idealism ; and the only ground on which 
it has been latterly thought possible to avoid this conclusion, — 



204 YARIOCJS THEOKIES OF PERCEPTION. 

an appeal to the natural belief of mankind in the existence of an 
external world, — is, as I showed you, incompetent to the Hy- 
pothetical Dualist or Cosmothetic Idealist. In his hands, such 
an appeal is self-contradictory. For, if this universal belief be 
fairly applied, it only proves the existence of an outer world by 
disproving the hypothesis of a Representative Perception. 

To recapitulate what I have now said : [Wlien I concen- 
trate my attention in the simplest act of Perception, I return 
from my observation with the most irresistible conviction of 
two facts, or rather tw^o branches of the same fact, — that 
/ am^ — and that something different from me exists. In 
this act, I am conscious of myself as the perceiving subject, 
and of an external reality as the ohject perceived ; and I am 
conscious of both existences in the same indivisible moment of 
intuition. The knowledge of the subject does not precede or 
follow the know^ledge of the object ; — neither determines, 
neither is determined by, the other. The two terms of correla- 
tion stand in mutual counterpoise and equal independence; 
they are given as connected in the synthesis of knowledge, but 
as contrasted in the antithesis of existence. 

Such is the fact of Perception revealed in consciousness, and 
as it determines mankind in general in their equal assurance of 
the reaUty of an external world, and of the existence of their 
own minds. Consciousness declares our knowledge of material 
qualities to be intuitive. Nor is the fact, as given, denied even 
by those who disallow its truth. So clear is the deliverance, 
that even the philosophers who reject an intuitive perception, 
find it impossible not to admit, that their doctrine stands decid- 
edly opposed to the voice of consciousness and the natural con- 
viction of mankind. 

According as the truth of the fact of consciousness in percep- 
tion \^ entirely accepted, accepted in part, or wholly rejected, six 
possible and actual systems of philosophy result. We say ex- 
plicitly — the truth of the fact. For the/ac^, as a phenomenon 
of consciousness, cannot be doubted ; since to doubt that we are 
conscious of this or that, is impossible. The doubt, as itself a 
phsenomenon of consciousness, would annihilate itself. 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 205 

1. If the veracity of consciousness be unconditionally admit- 
ted, — if the intuitive knowledge of mind and matter, and the 
consequent reality of their antithesis be taken as truths, to be 
explained if possible, but in themselves to be held as paramount 
to all doubt, the doctrine is established which we would call the 
scheme of Natural Realism^ or Natural Dualism, — 2. If the 
veracity of consciousness be allowed to the equipoise of the 
object and subject in the act, but rejected as to the reality of 
their antithesis, the system of Absolute Identity emerges, which 
reduces both mind and matter to phaenomenal modifications of 
the same common substance. — 3 and 4. If the testimony of 
consciousness be refused to the co-originality and reciprocal 
independence of the subject and object, two schemes are deter- 
mined, according as the one or the other of the terms is placed 
as the original and genetic. Is the object educed from the sub- 
ject. Idealism ; is the subject educed from the object, Mate- 
rialism^ is the result. — 5. Again, is the consciousness itself 
recognized only as a phsenomenon, and the substantial reality of 
both subject and object denied, the issue is Nihilism. 

6. These systems are all conclusions from an original inter- 
pretation of the fact of consciousness m Perception, carried 
intrepidly forth to its legitimate issue. But there is one 
scheme, which, violating the integrity of this fact, and, with the 
complete Idealist, regarding the object of consciousness in Per- 
ception as only a modification of the percipient subject, or, at 
least, a phsenomenon numerically different from the object it 
represents, — endeavors, however, to stop short of the negation 
of an external world, the reality of which, and the knowledge of 
whose reality, it seeks by various hypotheses to establish and ex- 
plain. This scheme, — which we would term Gosmothetic Ideal- 
ism^ Hypothetical Realism, or Hypothetical Dualism, — although 
the most inconsequent of all systems, has been embraced, under 
various forms, by the immense majority of philosophers. 

Of these systems, Dr. Brown adheres to the last. He holds 

that the mind is conscious, or immediately cognizant, of nothing 

heyond its subjective states ; but he assumes the existence of an 

external world beyond the sphere of consciousness, exclusively 

18 



206 VARIOUS THEOEIES OF PERCEPTION". 

* 
on the ground of our irresistible belief in its unknown reality. 

Independent of this belief, there is no reasoning on which the 

existence of matter can be vindicated ; the logic of the Idealist 

he admits to be unassailable. 

It will be proper, first, to generalize the possible forms under 
which the hypothesis of a Representative Perception can be real- 
ized ; as a confusion of some of these as actually held, on the 
part both of Reid and Brown, has tended to introduce no small 
confusion into the discussion. 

The Hypothetical Realist contends, that he is wholly ignorant 
of things in themselves^ and that these are known to him only 
through a vicarious phsenomenon, of which he is conscious in 
perception ; . 

* i^erMTwque ignarus, Imagine gaudet.' 

In other words, that the object immediately known and repre- 
senting is numerically different from the object really existing 
and represented. Now this vicarious phaenomenon, or imme- 
diate object, must either be numerically different from the per- 
cipient intellect, or a modification of that intellect itself. If the 
latter, it must, again, either be a modification of the thinking 
substance, with a transcendent existence beyond the act of 
thought, or a modification identical with the act of perception 
itself. 

All possible forms of the representative hypothesis are thus 
reduced to three, and these have all been actually maintained. 

1. 'The representative object not a modification of mind. 

2. The representative object a modification of mind^ depend- 
ent for its apprehension, but not for its existence, on the act of 
consciousness, 

3. The representative object a modification of mind, non- 
existent out of consciousness ; — the idea and its perception 
only different relations of an act really identical.'] — Discussions. 

It would be turning aside from my present purpose, were I 
to attempt any articulate refutation of these various systems. 
What I have now in view is to exhibit to you how, the moment 
that the fact of consciousness in its absolute integrity is surren- 



INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 207 

derecl, philosophy at once falls from unity and truth into variety 
and error. In reality, by the very act of refusing any one 
datum of consciousness, philosophy invalidates the whole credi- 
bility of consciousness, and consciousness ruined as an instru- 
ment, philosophy is extinct. Thus, the refusal of philosophers 
to accept the fact of the duality of consciousness is virtually an 
act of philosophical suicide. Their various systems are now 
only so many empty spectres, — so many enchanted corpses, 
which the first exorcism of the sceptic reduces to their natural 
nothingness. The mutual polemic of these systems is like the 
warfare of shadows ; as the heroes in Valhalla, they hew each 
other into pieces, only in a twinkling to be reunited, and 
again to amuse themselves in other bloodless and indecisive 
contests. " 

Mode of intercourse between Mind and Body. — Having now 
given a general view of the various systems of philosophy, in 
theu' mutual relations, as founded on the great fact of the 
Duality of Consciousness, I proceed, in subordination to this 
fact, to give a brief account of certain famous hypotheses which 
it is necessary for you to know, — hypotheses proposed in solu- 
tion of the problem of how intercourse of substances so oppo- 
site as mind and body could be accomplished. These hypotheses, 
of course, belong exclusively to the doctrine of Dualism ; for in 
the Unitarian system, the difficulty is resolved by the annihila- 
tion of the opposition, and the reduction of the two substances 
to one. The hypotheses I allude to are known under the names, 
1°, Of the system of Assistance or of Occasional Causes ; 2°, 
Of the Preestabhshed Harmony ; 3°, Of the Plastic Medium ; 
and, 4°, Of Physical Influence. The first belongs to Descartes, 
De la Forge, Malebranche, and the Cartesians in general ; the 
second to Leibnitz and Wolf, though not universally adopted by 
their school ; the third was an ancient opinion revived in mod- 
ern times by Cudworth and Le Clerc ; the fourth is the common 
doctrine of the Schoolmen, and, though not explicitly enounced, 
that generally prevalent at present ; — among modern philoso- 
phers, it has been expounded with great perspicuity by Euler 
We shall take these in their order. 



208 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 

Occasional Causes. — The hypothesis of Divine Assistance 
or of Occasional Causes, sets out from the apparent impossi- 
bihtj, involved in Dualism, of any actual communication be- 
tween a spiritual and a material substance, — that is, between 
extended and^ non-extended existences ; and it terminates in 
the assertion, that the Deity, on occasion of the affections of 
matter — of the motions of the bodily organism, excites in the 
mind correspondent thoughts and representations ; and on occa- 
sion of thoughts or representations arising in the mind, that 
He, in like manner, produces the correspondent movements in 
the body. But more explicitly : — [as Laromiguiere remarks,] 
" God, according to the advocates of this scheme, governs the 
universe, and its constituent existences, by the laws according 
to which lie has created them ; and as the world was t)rigmally 
called into being by a mere fiat of the divine will, so it owes the 
continuance of its existence from moment to moment only to the 
unremitted perseverance of the same volition. Let the sustain- 
ing energy of the divine will cease, but for an instant, and the 
universe lapses into nothingness. The existence of created 
things is thus exclusively maintained by a creation, as it were, 
incessantly renewed. God is, thus, the necessary cause of 
every modification of body, and of every modification of 
mind ; and his efficiency is sufficient to afford an explanation 
of the union and intercourse of extended and unextended sub- 
stances. 

" External objects determine certain movements in our bodily 
organs of sense, and these movements are, by the nerves and 
animal spirits, propagated to the brain. The brain does not 
act immediately and really upon the soul ; the soul has no 
direct cognizance of any modification of the brain ; this is im- 
possible. It is God himself, who, by a law which he has estab- 
lished, when movements are determined in the brain, produces 
analogous modifications in the conscious mind. In like manner, 
suppose the mind has a volition to move the arm ; this volition 
is, of itself, inefficacious ; but God, in virtue of the same law, 
causes the answering motion in our limb. The body is not, 
therefore, the real cause of the mental modifications ; nor the 



INTERCOURSE OF MIXD AND BODY. 



211 



mind the real cause of the bodily movements. Nevertheless, 
as the soul would not be modified without the antecedent changes 
in the body, nor the body moved without the antecedent deter- 
mination of the soul, — these changes and determinations are 
in a certain sort necessary. But . this necessity is not absolute ; 
it is only hypothetical or conditional. The organic changes, 
and the mental determinations, are nothing but simple condi- 
tions, and not real causes ; in short, they are occasions or occa- 
sional causes." This doctrine of occasional causes is called, 
likewise, the hypothesis of Assistance, as supposing the imme- 
diate cooperation or intervention of the Deity. •» It is involved 
in the Cartesian theory, and, therefore, belongs to Descartes ; 
..but it was fully evolved by De la Forge, Malebranche, and 
other followers of Descartes. It may, however, be traced far 
higher.- Many of the most illustrious philosophers of the mid- 
dle ages maintained that God is the only real agent in the 
universe. To this doctrine Dr. Reid hiclines, and it is expressly 
maintained by Mr. Stewart. 

Preestahlished Harmony. — This hypothesis did not satisfy 
Leibnitz. " He reproaches the Cartesians," [says Laromiguiere,] 
" with converting the universe into a perpetual miracle, and of 
explaining the natural, by a supernatural, order. This would 
annihilate philosophy ; for philosophy consists in the investiga- 
tion and discovery of the second causes which produce the vari- 
ous phgenomena of the universe. You degrade the Divinity," he 
subjoined ; — " you make him act like a watchmaker, who, hav- 
ing constructed a timepiece, would still be obliged himself to 
turn the hands to make it mark the hours. A skilful mechanist 
would so frame his clock, that it would go for a certain period 
without assistance or interposition. So, when God created man, 
he disposed his organs and faculties in such a manner that they 
are able, of themselves, to execute their functions and rnaintain 
their activity from birth to death." 

Leibnitz thought he had devised a more philosophical scheme, 
in the hypothesis of the preestabhshed or predetermined H;ir- 
mony. This hypothesis denies all real connection, not oiiiy 
beiw'oen spirilual and material substances, but between sub- 

18^ 



20^ 



INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 



Stances in general ; and explains their apparent communion 
from a previously decreed coarrangement of the Supreme Be- 
ing, in the following manner : ^ — " God, before creating souls 
and bodies, knew all these souls and bodies ; he knew also all 
possible souls, and bodies. Now, in this infinite variety of 
possible souls and bodies, it was necessary that there should be 
souls whose series of perceptions and determinations would 
correspond to the series of movements which some of these 
possible bodies would execute ; for in an infinite number of 
souls, and in an infinite number of bodies, there would be found 
all possible combinations. Now, suppose that, out of a soul 
whose series of modifications corresponded exactly to the series 
of modifications which a certain body was destined to perform, 
and of this body whose successive movements were correspond- 
ent to the successive modifications of this soul, God should 
make a man ; — it is evident, that between the two substances 
which constitute this man, there would subsist the most perfect 
harmony. It is, thus, no longer necessary to devise theories to 
account for the reciprocal intercourse of the material and the 
spiritual substances. These have no communication, no mutual 
influence. The soul passes from one state, from one perception, 
to another, by virtue of its own nature. The body executes the 
series of its movements without any participation or interference 
of the soul in these. The soul and body are like two clocks 
accurately regulated, which point to the same hour and minute, 
although the spring which gives motion to the one is not the 
spring which gives motion to the other. Thus the harmony 
which appears to combine the soul and body is, however, inde- 
pendent of any reciprocal action. This harmony was estab- 
lished before the creation of man ; and hence it is called the 
Preestablished or predetermined Harmony." 

It is needless to attempt a refutation of this hypothesis, which 
its author himself probably regarded more as a specimen of 
ingenuity than as a serious doctrine. 

Plastic Medium. — The third hypothesis is that of a Plastic 

^ [The following expositions of the second, third, and fourth hypotheses 
are all translated by Hamilton from Laromiguiere.] — Am. Ed. 



INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 211 

Medium between the soul and body. " This medium partici- 
pates of the two natures ; it is partly material, partly spiritual. 
As material, it can be acted on by the body ; and as spiritual, 
it can act upon the mind. It is the middle term of a continu- 
ous proportion. It is a bridge thrown over the abyss which 
separates matter from spirit. This hypothesis is too absurd for 
refutation ; it annihilates itself. Between an extended and 
unextended substance, there can be no middle existence ; [these 
being not simply different in degree, but contradictory.] If the 
medium be neither body nor soul, it is a chimera ; if it is at 
once body and soul, it is contradictory ; or if, to avoid the con- 
tradiction, it is said to be, like us, the union of soul and body, 
it is itself in want of a medium." 

Physical Influence, — The fourth hypothesis is that of Physi- 
cal Influence. " On this doctrine, external objects affect our 
senses, and the organic motion they determine is communicated 
to the brain. The brain acts upon the soul, and the soul has an 
idea, — a perception. The mind, thus possessed of a perception 
or idea, is affected for good or ill. If it suffers, it seeks to be 
relieved of pain. It acts in its turn upon the brain, in which 
it causes a movement in the nervous system ; the nervous sys- 
tem causes a muscular motion in the limbs, — a motion directed 
to remove or avoid the object which occasions the sensation of 
pain. 

" The brain is the seat of the soul, and, on this hypothesis, 
the soul has been compared to a spider seated in the centre of 
its web. The moment the least agitation is caused at the ex- 
tremity of this web, the insect is advertised and put upon the 
watch. In like manner, the mind situated in the brain has a 
point on which all the nervous filaments converge ; it is informed 
of what passes at the different parts of the body ; and forthwith 
it takes its measures accordingly. The body thus acts Avith a 
real efficiency on the mind, and the mind acts with a real effi- 
ciency upon the body. This action or influence being real, — 
physical, in the course of nature, — the body exerts a physical 
influence upon the soul, the soul a physical influence upon the 
body. 



212 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 

'' This system is simple, but it affords us no help in explain- 
ing tlie mysterious union of an extended and an unextended 
substance. 

' Tangere enim et tangi nisi corpus nulla potest res.' 

Nothing can touch and be touched but what is extended ; and 
if the soul be unextended, it can have no connection by touch 
with the body, and the physical influence is inconceivable or 
contradictory." 

Historical order of these hypotheses. — If we consider these 
hypotheses in relation to their historical manifestation, — the 
doctrine of Physical Influence would stand first ; for this doc- 
trine, which was only formally developed into system by the 
later Peripatetics, was that prevalent in the earlier schools of 
Greece. The Aristotelians, — who held that the soul was the 
substantial form, the vital principle, of the body, that the soul 
was all in the whole and all in every part of the body, — natu-> 
rally allowed a reciprocal influence of these. By influence (in 
Latin, influxus)^ you are to understand the relation of a cause 
to its effect ; and the term, now adopted into every vulgar lan- 
guage of Europe, was brought into use principally by the au- 
thority of Suarez, a Spanish Jesuit, who flourished at the close 
of the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth centuries, 
and one of the most illustrious metaphysicians of modern times. 
By him a cause is defined, principium per se influens esse in 
aliud. This definition, however, and the use of the metaphysi- 
cal term influence, (for it is nothing more,) are not, as is sup-, 
posed, original with him. They are to be found in the pseudo- 
Aristotelic treatise, J)e Oausis, 

The second hypothesis in chronological order is that of the 
Plastic Medium. It is to be traced to Plato. That philosopher, 
in illustrating the relations of the two constituents of man, 
says that the soul is in the body like a sailor in a ship ; that the 
soul employs the body as its instrument ; but that the energy, 
or life and sense, of the body, is the manifestation of a different 
substance, — r of a substance which holds a kind of intermediate 
existence between mind and matter. This conjecture, which 



INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 213 

Plato onlj obscurely hinted at, was elaborated with peculiar 
partiality by his followers of the Alexandrian school ; and, in 
their psychology, the oxog, or vehicle of the soul, the medium 
through which it is united to the body, is a prominent element 
and distinctive principle. To this opinion St. Austin, among 
other Christian fathers, was inclined ; and, in modern times, it 
has been revived and modified by Gassendi, Cudworth, and Le 
Clerc. 

Descartes agrees with the Platonists, in opposition to the 
Aristotelians, that the soul is not the substantial form of the 
body, but is connected with it only at a single point in the brain, 

— namely, the pineal gland. The pineal gland, he supposes, is 
the central point at which the or*ganic movements of the body 
terminate, when conveying to the mind the determinations to 
voluntary motion. But Descartes did- not allow, like the Pla- 
tonists, any intermediate or connecting substance. The nature 
of the connection he himself does not very explicitly state ; — 
but his disciples have evolved the hypothesis, already explained, 
of Occasional Causes, in which God is the connecting principle, 

— an hypothesis at least implicitly contained in his philosophy. 
Finally, Leibnitz and Wolf agree with the Cartesians, that 

there is no real, but only an apparent, intercourse between mind 
and body. * To explain this apparent intercourse they do not, 
however, resort to the continual assistance or interposition of 
the Deity, but have recourse to the supposition of a harmony 
between mind and body, established before the creation of 
either. 

These hypotheses unphilosophical, — All these theories are 
unphilosophical, because they all attempt to establish something 
beyond the sphere of observation, and, consequently, beyond 
the sphere of genuine philosophy ; and because they are either, 
like the Cartesian and Leibnitzian theories, contradictions of 
the fact of consciousness ; or, like the two other hypotheses, at 
variance with the fact which they suppose. What St. Austin 
so admirably says of the substance, either of mind or of body, 

— "Materiam spiritumque cognoscendo ignorari, et ignorando 
cognosci," — T would exhort you to adopt as your opinion in re- 



214 INTERCOURSE OF MIND AND BODY. 

gard to the union of these two existences. In short, in the 
words of Pascal, " Man is to himself the mightiest prodigy of 
nature ; for he is unable to conceive what is body, still less what 
fe mind, but least of all, is he able to conceive how a body can 
be united to a mind ; yet this is his proper being." A content- 
ed ignorance is, indeed, wiser than a presumptuous knowledge ; 
but this is a lesson which seems the last that philosophers are 
willing to learn. In the words of one of the acutest modern 
thinkers — " Magna, immo maxima, pars sapientiae est, quasdam 
asquo animo nescire velle." 



CHAPTER XIII. 

GENERAL PHJENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS — ARE WE 
ALWAYS CONSCIOUSLY ACTIVE? 

The second General Fact of Consciousness which we shall 
consider, and out of which several questions of great interest 
arise, is the fact, or correlative facts, of the Activity and 
Passivity of Mind. 

Activity and Passivity always conjoined in mind, — There is 
no pure activity, no pure passivity in creation. All things in 
the universe of nature are reciprocally in a state of continual 
action and counter-action ; they are always active and passive 
at once. God alone must be thought of as being active with- 
out any mixture of passivity, as his activity is subjected to no 
limitation. But precisely because it is unlimited, is it for us 
wholly incomprehensible. 

Activity and passivity are not, therefore, in the manifesta- 
tions of mind, distinct and independent phsenomena. This is a 
great, though a common, error. They are always conjoined. 
There is no operation of mind which is purely active ; no affec- 
tion which is purely passive. In every mental modification, 
action and passion are the two necessary elements or factors of 
which it is composed. But though both are always present, 
each is not, however, always present in equal quantity. Some- 
times the one constituent preponderates, sometimes the other ; 
and it is from the preponderance of the active element in some 
modifications, of the passive element in others, that we distin- 
guish these modifications by different names, and consider them 
as activities or passivities according as they approximate to one 
or other of the two factors. Thus faculty^ operation, energy^ 



216 GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

are words that we employ to designate the manifestations in 
which activity is predominant. Faculty denotes an active 
power ; action, operation, energy, denote its present exertion. 
On the other hand, capacity expresses a passive power ; affec- 
tion, passion, express a present suifering. The terms, mode, 
modijication, state, may be used indifferently to signify both 
phsenomena; but it must be acknowledged that these, espe- 
cially the word state, £ire now closely associated with the pas- 
sivity of mind, which they, therefore, tend rather to suggest 
The passivity of mind is expressed by another term, receptivity ; 
for passivity is only the condition, the necessary antecedent of 
activity, only the property possessed by the mind of standing in 
relation to certain foreign causes, — of receiving from them 
impressions, determinations to act. 

1^0 consciousness of passivity. — It is to be observed, that we 
are never directly conscious of passivity. Consciousness only 
commences with, is only cognizant of, the reaction consequent 
upon the foreign determination to act ; and this reaction is not 
itself passive. In so far, therefore, as we are conscious, we are 
active ; whether there be a mental activity of which we are not 
conscious, is another question. 

There are certain arduous problems connected with the 
activity of mind, which will be more appropriately considered 
[hereafter]. At present, I shall only treat of those questions 
which are conversant about the immediate phaenomena of 
activity. Of these, the first that I shall consider is one of con- 
siderable interest, and which, though variously determined by 
different philosophers, does not seem to lie beyond the sphere 
of observation. I allude to the question. Whether we are 
always consciously active ? 

Are we ahvays consciously active 'I — It is evident that this 
question is not convertible with the question, Have we always 
a memory of our consciousness ? — for the latter problem must 
be at once answered in the negative. It is also evident, that 
we must exclude the consideration of those states in which the 
mind is apparently without consciousness, but in regard to 
which, in reality, we can obtain no information from experi- 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 217 

«• 
merit. Concerning these, we must be contented to remain in 
ignorance ; at least, only to extend to them the analogical con- 
clusions which our observations on those within the sphere of 
experiment warrant us inferring. Our question, as one of pos- 
sible solution, must,, therefore, be limited to the states of sleep 
and somnambulism, to the exclusion of those states of insensi- 
bility Avhicli we cannot terminate suddenly at will. It is hardly 
necessary to observe, that with the nature of sleep and som- 
nambulism, as psychological phasnomena, we have at present 
nothing to do ; our consideration is now strictly limited to the 
inquiry, Whether the mind, in as far as we can make it matter 
of observation, is always in a state of conscious activity. The 
general problem in regard to the ceaseless activity of the mind 
has been one agitated from very ancient times, but it has also 
been one on which philosophers have pronounced less on grounds 
of experience than of theory. Plato and the Platonists' were 
unanimous in maintaining the continual energy of intellect. 
The opinion of Aristotle appears doubtful, and passages may 
be quoted from his works in favor of either alternative. The 
Aristotelians, in general, were opposed, but a considerable num- 
ber were favorable, to the Platonic doctrine. The question, 
however, obtained its principal importance in the philosophy of 
Descartes. That philosopher made the essence, the very exist- 
ence, of the soul to consist in actual thought, under which he 
included even the desires and feelings ; and thought he defined 
all of which we are conscious. The assertion, therefore, of 
Descartes, that the mind always thinks, is, in his employment 
of language, tantamount to the assertion that the mind is 
always conscious. 

Locke's argument for the negative. — That the min 1 is 
always conscious, though a fundamental position of the Carte- 
sian doctrine, was rather assumed than proved by an appeal to 
fact and experience. All is theoretical in Descartes ; all is 
theoretical in his disciples. Even Malebranche assumes our 
consciousness in sleep, and explains our oblivion only by a 
mechanical hypothesis. It was, therefore, easy for Locke to 
deny the truth of the Cartesian opinion, and to give a strong 

Id 



218 THE MIND NEVEU SLEEPS. 

semblance of probability to his own doctrine by its apparent 
conformity with the phaenomena. Omitting a good deal of 
what is either irrelevant to the general question, or what is now 
admitted to be false, as founded on his erroneous doctrine of 
personal identity, the following is the sum of Locke's argument 
upon the point. " We know certainly by experience," | he 
says,] " that we sometimes think, and thence draw this infallible 
consequence, that there is something in us that has a power to 
think : but whether that substance perpetually thinks or no, we 
can be no further assured than experience informs us. For to 
say that actually thinking is essential to the soul, and insepara- 
ble from it, is to beg what is in question, and not to prove it by 
reason ; which is necessary to be done, if it be not a self- 
evident proposition. But whether this, ' that the soul always 
thinks,' be a self-evident proposition, that everybody assents to 
at first hearing, I appeal to mankind. It is doubted whether I 
thought all last night or no ; the question being about a matter 
of fact, it is begging it to bring as a proof for it an hypothesis 
which is the very thing in dispute ; by which way one may 
prove any thing." .... "It will, perhaps, be said, that ' the 
soul thinks even in the soundest sleep, but the memory retains 
it not.' That the soul in a sleeping man should be this moment 
busy a-thinking, and the next moment in a waking man not 
remember nor be able to recollect one jot of all those thoughts, 
is very hard to be conceived, and would need some better proof 
than bare assertion to make it be believed. For who can^ 
without any more ado but being barely told so, imagine that the 
greatest part of men do, during all their lives, for several hours 
every day, think of something which, if they were asked even 
in- the middle of these thoughts, they could remember nothing 
at all of? Most men, I think, pass a great part of their sleep 
without dreaming. I once knew a man that was bred a scholar 
and had no bad memory, who told me he had never dreamed in 
his life, till he had that fever he was then newly recovered of, 
which was about the fiY^ or six and twentieth year of his age. 
I suppose the world affords more such instances ; at least every 
one's acquaintance will furnish him with examples enoug-h of 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 219 

guch as pass most of their nights without dreaming." .... 
And again, "If thej say that a man is always conscious *o 
himself of thinking ; I ask how they know it ? ' Conscio'^^^ness 
is the perception of what passes in a man's own mind. 2an 
another man perceive that I am conscious of any thing, when I 
perceive it not myself? ' No man's knowledge here can go 
beyond his experience. Wake a man out of a sound sleep, 
and ask him what he was that moment thinkino; on. If he 
liimself be conscious of nothing he then thought on, he must be 
a notable diviner of thoughts that can assure him that he was 
thinking : may he not with more reason assure him he was not 
asleep ? This is something beyond philosophy ; and it cannot 
be less than revelation that discovers to another thoughts in my 
mind when I can find none there myself; and they must needs 
have a penetrating sight who can certainly see what I think 
when I cannot perceive it myself, and when I declare that I do 
not. This some may think to be a step beyond the Rosicru- 
ci^ns, it being easier to make one's self invisible to others, than 
to make another's thoughts visible to one which are not visible 
to himself. But it is but defining the soul to be ' a substance 
that always thinks,' and the business is done." 

Locke's view opposed hy Leibnitz, — This decision of Locke 
was rejected by Leibnitz. He observes, in reply to the suppo- 
sition that continual consciousness is an attribute of Him " who 
neither slumbereth nor sleepeth," ' that this affords no inference 
that in sleep we are wholly without perception.' To the re- 
mark, " that it is difiicult to conceive, that a being can think 
and not be conscious of thought," he replies, ' that in this lies 
the whole knot and difiiculty of the matter. But this is not in- 
soluble.' " We must observe," he says, " that we think of a 
multitude of things at once, but take heed only of those thoughts 
that are the more prominent. Nor could it be otherwise. For 
were we to take heed of every thing, it would be necessary to 
attend to an infinity of matters at the same moment, all of 
which make an effectual impression on the senses. Nay, I 
assert that there remains always something of all our past 
thoughts, — that ^ none is ever entirely effaced. Now when we 



220 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS 

« 
sleep without dreaming, and when stunned by a blow or other 
accident, there are formed in us an infinity of small confused 
perceptions." And again he remarks : " That even when we 
sleep without dreaming, there is always some feeble perception. 
The act of awakening, indeed, shows this : and the more easily 
we are roused, the clearer is the perception we have of what 
passes without, although this perception is not always strong 
enough to cause us to awake." 

Now, in all this it will be observed, that Leibnitz do(^ not 
precisely answer the question we have mooted. He maintains 
that the mind is never without perceptions, but, as he holds that 
perceptions exist without consciousness, he cannot, though he 
opposes Locke, be considered as affirming that the mind is 
never without consciousness during sleep, — in short, does al- 
ways dream. 

But if Leibnitz cannot be adduced as categorically asserting 
that there is no sleep without its dream, this cannot be said of 
Kant. That great thinker distinctly maintains that we always 
dream when asleep ; that to cease to dream would be to cease 
to live ; and that those who fancy they have not dreamt have 
only forgotten their dream. This is all that the manual of 
Anthropology, published by himself, contains upon the question ; 
but in a manuscript in my possession, which bears to be a work 
of Kant, but is probably only a compilation from notes taken 
at his lectures on Anthropology, it is further stated that we can 
dream more in a minute than we can act during a day, and that 
the great rapidity of the train of thought in sleep, is one of the 
principal causes why we do not always recollect what we dream. 
He elsewhere also observes, that the cessation of a force to act 
is tantamount to its cessation to be. 

The wakefulness of mind proved from somnambulism, — 
Though the determination of this question is one that seems not 
extremely difficult, we find it dealt with by philosophers, on the 
one side and the other, rather by hypothesis than by experi- 
ment; at least, we have, with one partial exception, which I 
am soon to quote to you, no observations sufficiently accurate 
and detailed to warrant us in establishing more than a very 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 221 

doubtful conclusion. I have myself at different times turned 
my attention to the point, and, as far as my observations go, 
they certainly tend to prove that, during sleep, the mind is 
never either inactive or wholly unconscious of its activity. As 
to the objection of Locke and others, that, as we have often no 
recollection of dreaming, we have, therefore, never dreamt, it is 
sufficient to say that the assumption m this argument — that 
•consciousness, and the recollection of consciousness, are conver- 
tible — is disproved in the most emphatic manner by experience. 
You have all heard of the phaenomenon of somnambulism. In 
this remarkable state, the various mental faculties are usually 
in a higher degree of power than in the natural. The patient 
has recollections of what he has wholly forgotten. He speaks 
languages of which, when awake, he remembers not a word. 
If he use a vulgar dialect when out of this state, in it he em- 
ploys only a correct and elegant phraseology. The imagination, 
the sense of propriety, and the faculty of reasoning, are all in 
general exalted. The bodily powers are in high activity, and 
under the complete control of the will ; and, it is well known, 
persons in this state have frequently performed feats, of which, 
when out of it, they would not even have imagined the possibil- 
ity. And what is even more remarkable, the difference of the 
faculties in the two states seems not confined merely to a differ- 
ence in degree. For it happens, for example, that a person 
who has no ear for music when awake, shall, in his somnambulic 
crisis, sing with the utmost correctness and with full enjoyment 
of his performance. Under this affection persons sometimes 
live half their lifetime, alternating" between the normal and ab- 
normal states, and performing the ordinary functions of life 
indifferently in both, with this distinction, that if the patient be 
dull and doltish when he is said to be awake, he is comparatively 
alert and intelligent when nominally asleep. I am in possession 
of three works, written during the crisis by three different som- 
nambulists. Now it is evident that consciousness, and an ex- 
alted consciousness, must be allowed in somnambulism. This 
cannot possibly be denied ; — but mark what follows. It is the 
peculiarity of somnambulism, — it is the differential quality by 

19* 



222 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

which that state is contradistinguished from the state of dream- 
ing, — that we have no recollection, when we awake, of what 
has occurred during its continuance. Consciousness is thus cut 
in two; memory does not connect the train of consciousness in 
the one state with the train of consciousness in the other. When 
the patient again relapses into the state of somnambulism, he 
again remembers all that had occurred during every former 
alternative of that state ; but he not only remembers this, he 
recalls also the events of his normal existence ; so that, whereas 
the patient in his somnambulic crisis has a memory of his 
whole life, in his waking intervals he has a memory only of half 
his life. 

Dreaming possible without memory, — At the time of Locke, 
the phaenomena of somnambulism had been very little studied ; 
nay, so great is the ignorance that prevails in regard to its na- 
ture even now, that you will find this, its distinctive character, 
wholly unnoticed in the best works upon the subject. But this 
distinction, you observe, is incompetent always to discriminate 
the states of dreaming and somnambulism. It may be true 
that, if we recollect our visions during sleep, this recollection 
excludes somnambulism ; but the want of memory by no means 
proves that the visions we are known by others to have had, 
were not common dreams. The phaenomena, indeed, do not 
always enable us to discriminate the two states. Somnambu- 
lism may exist in many different degrees ; the sleep-walking 
from which it takes its name is only one of its higher phaenom- 
ena, and one comparatively rare. In general, the subject of 
this affection does not leave his bed, and it is then frequently 
impossible to say, whether the manifestations exhibited are the 
phaenomena of somnambulism or of dreaming. Talking during 
sleep, for example, may be a symptom of either ; and it is often 
only from our general knowledge of the habits and predisposi- 
tions of the sleeper, that we are warranted in referring this 
effect to the one and not to the other class of phaenomena. We* 
have, however, abundant evidence to prove that forgetfulness 
is not a decisive criterion of somnambulism. Persons whom 
there is no reason to suspect of this affection often manifest 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 223 

during sleep the strongest indications of dreaming, and yet, 
when they awaken in the morning, retain no memory of what 
they may have done or said during the night. Locke's argu- 
ment, that because we do not always remember our conscious- 
ness during sleep, we have not, therefore, been always conscious, 
is thus, on the ground of fact and analogy, disproved. 

Results of personal experience, — But this is not all. We 
can not only show that the fact of the mind remaining conscious 
during sleep is possible, is even probable, we can also show, by 
an articulate experience, that this actually occurs. The follow- 
ing observations are the result of my personal experience, and 
similar experiments every one of you is competent to institute 
for himself. 

In the first place, when we compose ourselves to rest, we do 
not always fall at once asleep, but remain for a time in a state 
of incipient slumber, — in a state intermediate between sleep 
and waking. Now, if we are gently roused from this transition- 
state, we find ourselves conscious of being in the commencement 
of a dream ; we find ourselves occupied with a train of thought, 
and this train we are still able to follow out to a point when it 
connects itself with certain actual perceptions. We can still 
trace imagination to sense, and show how, departing from the 
last sensible impressions of real objects, the fancy proceeds in 
its work of distorting, falsifying, and perplexing these, in order 
to construct out of their ruins its own grotesque edifices. 

In the second place, I have always observed, that when sud- 
denly awakened during sleep, (and to ascertain the fact I have 
caused myself to be roused at different seasons of the night,) I 
have always been able to observe that I was in the middle of a 
dream. The recollection of this dream was not always equally 
vivid. On some occasions, I was able to trace it back until the 
train was gradually lost at a remote distance ; on others, I was 
hardly aware of more than one or two of the latter links of the 
chain ; and, sometimes, was scarcely certain of more than the 
fact, that I was not awakened from an unconscious state. Why 
we should not always be able to recollect our dreams, it is not 
difficult to explain. In our waking and our sleeping states, we 



224 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

are placed in two worlds of thought, not only different but con- 
trasted, and contrasted both in the character and in the inten- 
sity of their representations. When snatched suddenly from 
the twilight of our sleeping imaginations, and placed in the 
meridian lustre of our waking perceptions, the necessary effect 
of the transition is at once to eclipse or obliterate the traces of 
our dreams. The act itself, also, of rousing us from sleep, by 
abruptly interrupting the current of our thoughts, throws us 
into confusion, disqualifies us for a time from recollection, and 
before we have recovered from our consternation, what we 
could at first have easily discerned is fled or flying. 

A sudden and violent is, however, in one respect, more 
favorable than a gradual and spontaneous, wakening to the 
observation of the pheenomena of sleep. For, in the former 
case, the images presented are fresh and prominent ; while in 
the latter, before our attention is applied, the objects of obser- 
vation have withdrawn darkling into the background of the 
soul. We may, therefore, I think, assert, in general, that 
whether we recollect our dreams or not, we always dream. 
Something similar, indeed, to the rapid oblivion of our sleeping 
consciousness, happens to us occasionally even when awake. 
When our mind is not intently occupied with any subject, or 
more frequently when fatigued, a thought suggests itself. We 
turn it lazily over and ^x our eyes in vacancy ; interrupted by 
the question what we are thinking of, we attempt to answer, but 
the thought is gone ; we cannot recall it, and say that we are 
thinking of nothing. 

General conclusion, — The observations I have hitherto 
made tend only to establish the fact, that the mind is never 
wholly inactive, and that we are never wholly unconscious of 
its activity. Of the degree and character of that activity, I at 
present say nothing. But in confirmation of the opinion I 
have now hazarded, and in proof of something more even than 
I have ventured to maintain, I have great pleasure in quot- 
ing the substance of a remarkable essay on "sleep by one 
of the most distinguished of the philosophers of France. I 
refer to M. Jouffroy, who, along with M. Royer Col la i- '., 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 225 

was at the head of the pure school of Scottish Philosophy in 
France. 

The mind often awahe when the senses sleep, — "I have 
never well understood those who admit that in sleep the mind 
is dormant. When we dream, we are assuredly asleep, and 
assuredly also our mind is not asleep, because it thinks ; it is, 
therefore, manifest, that the mind frequently wakes when the 
senses are in slumber. But this does not prove tnat it never 
sleeps along with them. To sleep is for the mind not to dream ; 
and it is impossible to establish the fact, that there are in sleep 
moments in which the mind does not dream. To have no 
recollection of our dreams, does not prove that we have not 
dreamt ; for it can be often proved that we have dreamt, al- 
though the dream has left no trace on our memory. 

" The fact, then, that the mind sometimes wakes while the 
senses are asleep, is thus established ; whereas the fact, that it 
sometimes sleeps along with them is not ; the probability , there- 
fore, is, that it wakes always. It would require contradictory 
facts to destroy the force of this induction, which, on the con- 
trary, every fact seems to confirm. I shall proceed to analyze 
some of these which appear to me curious and striking. They 
manifestly imply this conclusion, that the mind, during sleep, is 
not in a peculiar state, but that its activity is carried on pre- 
cisely as when awake. 

Facts in support of this conclusion, — " When an inhabitant 
of the province comes to Paris, his sleep is at first disturbed, 
and continually broken, by the noise of the carriages passing 
under his window. He soon, however, becomes accustomed to 
the turmoil, and ends by sleeping at Paris as he slept in his 
village. 

" The noise, however, remains the same, and makes an equal 
impression on his senses ; how comes it that this noise at 
first hinders, and then, at length, does not hinder him, from 
sleeping ? 

" The state of waking presents analogous facts. Every one 
knows that it is difficult to fix our attention on a book, when 
surrounded by persons engaged in . conversation ; at lengthy 



226 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

however, we acquire this faculty. A man unaccustomed to the 
tumult of the streets of Paris is unable to think consecutively 
while walking through them ; -*a Parisian finds no difficulty. 
He meditates as tranquilly in the midst of the crowd and bustle 
of men and carriages, as he could in the centre of the forest. 
The analogy between these facts taken from the state of 
waking, and the fact which I mentioned at the commencement, 
taken from the state of sleep, is so close, that the explanation 
of the former should throw some light upon the latter. We 
shall attempt this explanation. 

Analysis of Attention and Distraction, — " Attention is the 
voluntary application of the mind to an object. It is estab- 
lished, by experience, that we cannot give our attention to two 
different objects at the same time. Distraction is the removal 
of our attention from a matter with which we are engaged, and 
our bestowal of it on another which crosses us. In distraction, 
attention is only diverted because it is attracted by a new per- 
ception or idea soliciting it more strongly than that with which 
it is occupied ; and this diversion diminishes exactly in propor- 
tion as the solicitation is weaker on the part of the intrusive 
idea. All experience proves this. The more strongly atten- 
tion is applied to a subject, the less susceptible is it of distrac- 
tion ; thus it is, that a book which awakens a lively curiosity 
retains the attention captive ; a person occupied with a matter 
affecting his life, his reputation, or his fortune, is not easily dis- 
tracted ; he sees nothing, he understands nothing, of what 
passes around him ; we say that he is deeply preoccupied. In 
like manner, the greater our curiosity, or the more curious the 
things that are spoken of around us, the less able are we to 
rivet our attention on the book we read. In like manner, also, 
if we are waiting in expectation of any one, the^ slightest 
noises occasion distraction, as these noises may be the signal of 
the approach we anticipate. All these facts tend to prove, that 
distraction results only when the intrusive idea solicits us more 
strongly than that with which we are occupied. 

" Hence it is, that the stranger in Paris cannot think in the 
bustle of the streets. The Impressions which assail his eyef5 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 227 

and ears on every side, being for him the signs of things new or 
little known, when they reach his mind, interest him more strongly 
than the matter even to which he would apply his thoughts. 
Each of these impressions announces a cause which may be 
beautiful, rare, curious, or terrific ; the intellect cannot refrain 
from turning out to verify the fact. It turns out, however, no 
longer when experience has made it familiar with all that can 
strike the senses on the streets of Paris ; it remains within, and 
no longer allows itself to be deranged. 

" The other admits of a similar explanation. To read with- 
out distraction, in the midst of an unknown company, would be 
impossible. Curiosity would be too strong. This would also 
be the case if the subject of conversation were very interest- 
ing. But in a familiar circle, whose ordinary topics of conver- 
sation are well known, the ideas of the book make an easy 
conquest of our thoughts. 

" The will, likewise, is of some avail in resisting distraction. 
Not that it is able to retain the attention when disquieted and 
curious ; but it can recall, and not indulge it in protracted ab- 
sences, and, by constantly remitting it to the object of its voli- 
tion, the interest of this object becomes at last predominant. 
Rational considerations, and the necessity of remaining atten- 
tive, likewise exert an influence ; they come in aid of the idea, 
and lend it, so to speak, a helping hand in concentrating on it 
the attention. 

Distraction and Non-distraction matters of intelligence, — 
" But, howsoever it may be with all these petty influences, it 
remains evident that distraction and n on -distraction are neither 
of them matters of sense, but both matters of intelligence. It is 
not the senses which become accustomed to hear the noises of the 
street and the sounds of conversation, and which end in being 
less affected by them ; if we are at first vehemently affected by 
the noises of the street or drawing-room, and then little or not 
at all, it is because at first attention occupies itself with these 
impressions, and afterwards neglects them ; when it neglects 
them, it is not diverted from its object, and distraction does not 
take place ; when, on the contrary, it accords them notice, it 
abandons its object, and is then distracted. 



228 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

" We may observe, in support of tliis conclusion, that the 
habit of hearing the same sounds renders us sometimes highly 
sensible to them, as occurs in savages and in the blind ; some- 
times, again, almost insensible to them, as exemplified in the 
apathy of the Parisian for the noise of carriages. If the elTect 
were physical, — if it depended on the body and not on the 
mind, there would be a contradiction, for the habit of hearing 
the same sounds either blunts the organ or sharpens it ; it could 
not at once have two, and two contrary, effects ; — it could have 
only one. The fact is, it neither blunts nor sharpens ; the 
organ remains the same ; the same sensations are determined ; 
but when these sensations interest the mind, it applies itself to 
them, and becomes accustomed to their discrimination ; when 
they do not interest it, it becomes accustomed to neglect, and 
does not discriminate them. This is the whole mystery ; the 
phasnomenon is psychological, not physiological. 

The phcenomena of sleep, — " Let us now turn our attention 
to the state of sleep, and consider whether analogy does not 
demand a similar explanation of the fact which we stated at the 
commencement. What takes place when a noise hinders us 
from sleeping ? The body fatigued begins to slumber ; then, of 
a sudden, the senses are struck, and we awake; then fatigue 
regains the ascendant, we relapse into drowsiness, which is soon 
again interrupted ; and so on for a certain continuance. When, 
on the contrary, we are accustomed to noise, the impressions it 
makes no longer disturb our first sleep ; the drowsiness is pro- 
longed, and we fall asleep. That the senses are more torpid 
in sleep than in our waking state, is not a matter of doubt. But 
when I am once asleep, they are then equally torpid on the first 
night of my arrival in Paris as on the hundredth. The noise 
being the same, they receive the same impressions, which they 
transmit in equal vivacity to the mind. Whence comes it, 
then, that on the first night I am awakened, and not on the 
hundi'edth ? The physical facts are identical ; the difference 
can originate only in the mind, as in the case of distraction and 
of non-distraction in the waking state. Let us suppose that the 
Boul has fallen asleep along with the body ; on this hypothesis, 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 229 

the slumber would be equally deep in botli cases, for the mind 
and for the senses ; and we should be unable to see why, in tiie 
one case, it was aroused more than in the other. It remains, 
therefore, certain that it does not sleep like the body ; and that, 
in the one case, disquieted by unusual impressions, it awakens 
the senses to inquire what is the matter ; whilst in the other, 
knowing by experience of what external fact these impressions 
are the sign, it remains tranquil, and does not disturb the senses 
to obtain a useless explanation. 

" For let us remark, that the mind has need of the senses to 
obtain a knowledge of external things. In sleep, the senses are 
some of them closed, as the eyes ; the others half torpid, as 
touch and hearing. If the soul be disquieted by the impressions 
which reach it, it requires the senses to ascertain the cause, and 
to relieve its inquietude. This is the cause why we find our- 
selves in a disquieted state, when aroused by an extraordinary 
noise ; and this could not have occurred had we not been occu- 
pied with this noise before we awoke. 

" This is also the cause why we sometimes feel, during sleep, 
the efforts we make to awaken our senses, when an unusual 
noise or any painful sensation disturbs our rest. If we are in a 
profound sleep, we are for a long time agitated before we have 
it in our power to awake ; — we say to ourselves, we must awake 
in order to get out of pain ; but the sleep of the senses resists, 
and it is only by little and little that we are able to rouse them 
from torpidity. Sometimes, when the noise ceases before the 
issue of the struggle, the awakening does not take place, and, 
in the morning, we have a confused recollection of having been 
disturbed during our sleep, — a recollection which becomes dis- 
tinct . only when we learn from others that such and such an 
occurrence has taken plape while we were asleep. 

Illustrated hy personal experience, — "I had given orders 
some time ago, that a parlor adjoining to my bedroom should 
be swept before I was called in the morning. For the first two 
days, the noise awoke me ; but, thereafter, I was not aware of 
it. Whence arose the difference? The noises are the same, 
and at the same hour I am in the same degree of slumber; 

20 



230 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

the same sensations, consequently, take place. Whence comes 
it that I awoke, and do no longer awake ? For this, it appears 
to me, there is but one explanation ; — namely, that my mind 
which awakes, and which is now aware of the cause of these 
sensations, is no longer disquieted, and no longer rouses my 
senses. It is true that I do not retain the recollection of this 
reasoning ; but this oblivion is not more extraordinary than that 
of so many others which cross our mind, both when awake and 
when asleep. 

" I add a single observation. The noise of the brush on the 
carpet of my parlor is as nothing compared with that of the 
heavy wagons, which pass under my windows at the same hour, 
and which do not trouble my repose in the least. I was, there- 
fore, awakened by a sensation much feebler than a crowd of 
others, which I received at the same time. Can that hypothesis 
aiford the reason, which supposes that the awakening is a neces- 
sary event ; that the sensations rouse the senses, and that the 
senses rouse the mind ? It is evident that my mind alone, and 
its activity, can explain why the fainter sensation awoke me ; 
as these alone can explain why, when I am reading in my study, 
the small noise of a mouse playing in a corner can distract my 
attention, while the thundering noise of a passing wagon does 
not affect me at all. 

" The explanation fully accounts for what occurs with those 
who sleep in attendance on the sick. All noises foreign to the 
patient have no effect on them ; but let the patient turn him on 
the bed, let him utter a groan or sigh, or let his breathing be- 
come painful or interrupted, forthwith the attendant wakes, 
however little inured to the vocation, or interested i]> the wel- 
fare of the patient. Whence comes this discrimination between 
the noises which deserve the attentiQn of the attendant, and 
those which do not, if, whilst the senses are asleep, the mind 
does not remain observant, — does not act the sentinel, does not 
consider the sensations which the senses convey, and does not 
awaken the senses as it finds these sensations disquieting or not ? 
It is by being strongly impressed, previous to going to sleep, 
with the duty of attending to the respiration, motions, complaints 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 231 

d1 tlie sufferer, that we come to awaken ait all such noises, and 
at no others. The habitual repetition of such an impression 
gives this faculty to professional sick-nurses ; a lively interest 
in the health of the patient gives it equally to the members of 
his family. 

"It is in precisely the same manner that we waken at the 
appointed hour, when before going to sleep we have made a 
firm resolution of so doing. I have this power in perfection, 
but I notice that I lose it if I depend on any one calling me. 
In this latter case, my mind does not take the trouble of meas- 
uring the time or of listening to the clock. But in the former, 
it is necessary that it do so, otherwise the phasnomenon is inex- 
phcable. Every one has made, or can make, this experiment ; 
when it fails, it will be found, if I mistake not, either that we 
have not been sufficiently preoccupied with the intention, or were 
over-fatigued ; for when the senses are strongly benumbed, they 
convey to the mind, on the one hand, more obtuse sensations of 
the monitory sounds, and, on the other, they resist for a longer 
time the efforts the mind makes to awaken them, when these 
sounds have reached it. 

" After a night passed in this effort, we have, in general, the 
recollection, in the morning, of having been constantly occupied 
during sleep with this thought. The mind, therefore, watched, 
and, full of its resolution, awaited the moment. It is thus that 
when we go to bed much interested with any subject, we remem- 
ber, on awakening, that during sleep we have been continually 
haunted by it. On these occasions, the slumber is light, for, the 
mind being untranquil, its agitation is continually disturbing the 
torpor of the senses. When the mind is calm, it does not sleep 
more, but it is less restless. 

" It would be curious to ascertain, whether persons of a fee- 
ble memory, and of a volatile disposition, are not less capable 
than others of awakening at an appointed hour ; for these two 
circumstances ought to produce this effect, if the notion I have 
formed of the phoenomenon be correct. A volatile disposition is 
unable strongly to preoccupy itself with the thought, and to form 
a determined resolution ; and, on the other hand, it is the mem- 



232 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

or J wliicli preserves a recollection of the resolution taken before 
falling: asleep. I have not had an opportunity of making the 
experiment. 

General conclusions. — "It appears to me, that, from the pre- 
vious observations, it inevitably follows : — 

1°, That in sleep the senses are torpid, but that the mind 
wakes. 

2°, That certain of our senses continue to transmit to the 
mind the imperfect sensations they receive. 

3°, That the mind judges these sensations, and that it is in 
virtue of its judgments that it awakens, or does not awaken, the 
senses. 

4°, That the reason why the mind awakens the senses is, 
that sometimes the sensation disquiets it, being unusual or pain- 
ful, and that sometimes the sensation warns it to rouse the 
senses, as being an indication of the moment when it ought 
to do so. 

5°, That the mind possesses the power of awakening the 
sense;?, but that . it only accomplishes this by its own activity 
overcoming their torpor ; that this torpor is an obstacle, — an 
obstacle greater or less as it is more or less profound. 

"If these inferences are just, it follows that we can waken 
ourselves at will and at appointed signals ; that the instrument 
called an alarum does not act so much by the noise it makes, as 
by the associations we have established in going to bed between 
the noise and the thought of wakening ; that, therefore, an in- 
strument much less noisy, and emitting only a feeble sound, 
would probably produce the same effect. It follows, moreover, 
that we can inure ourselves to sleep profoundly in the midst 
of the loudest noises ; that to accomplish this, it is perhaps suf- 
ficient, on the first night, to impress it on our minds that these 
sounds do not deserve attention, and ought not to awaken us ; 
and that by this mean, any one may probably sleep as well in 
the mill as the miller himself. It follows, in fine, that the sleep 
of the strong and courageous ought to be less easily disturbed, 
all things equal, than the sleep of the weak and timid. Some 
historic? J facts may be quoted in proof of this last con(»Jusion," 



THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 233 

I may notice a rather curious case which occurs to my recol- 
lection, and which tends to corroborate the theory of the French 
psychologist. The object of observation was the postman be- 
tween Halle and a town, I forget which, some eight miles dis- 
tant. This distance the postman was in the habit of traversing 
daily. A considerable part of his way lay across a district of 
unenclosed champaign meadow-land, and in walking over this 
smooth surface, the postman was generally asleep. But at the 
termination of this part of his road, there was a narrow foot- 
bridge over a stream, and to reach this bridge, it was necessary 
to ascend some broken steps. Now, it was ascertained as com- 
pletely as any fact of the kind could be, — the observers were 
shrewd, and the object of observation was a man of undoubted 
probity, — I say, it was completely ascertained : — 1 °, That the 
postman was asleep in passing over this level course ; 2°, That 
he held on his way in this state without deflection towards the 
bridge ; and, 3°, That before arriving at the bridge, he awoke. 
But this case is not only deserving of all credit from the posi- 
tive testimony by which it is vouched ; it is also credible as 
only one of a class of analogous cases which it may be adduced 
as representing. This case, besides showing that the mind must 
be active though the body is asleep, shows also that certain 
bodily functions may be dormant, while others are alert. The 
locomotive faculty was here in exercise, while the senses were 
in slumber. 

This suggests to me another example of the same phenome- 
non. It is found in a story told by Erasmus in one of his 
letters, concerning his learned friend Oporinus, the celebrated 
professor and printer of Basle. Oporinus was on a journey 
with a bookseller ; and, on their road, they had fallen in with a 
manuscript. Tired with their day's travelling, — travelling was 
then almost exclusively performed on horseback, — they came 
at nightfall to their inn. They were, however, curious to ascer- 
tain the contents of their manuscript, and Oporinus undertook 
the task cf reading it aloud. This he continued for some time, 
when the bookseller found it necessary to put a question con- 
cerning a word which he had not rightly understood. It waft 

20* 



234 THE MIND NEVER SLEEPS. 

now discovered that Oporinus was asleep, and being awakened 
by bis companion, be found that be bad no recollection of wbat 
for a considerable time be bad been reading. Tbis is a case 
concurring witb a thousand others to prove, 1 °, That one bodily 
sense or function may be asleep while another is awake ; and, 
2°, That the mind may be in a certain state of activity during 
sleep, and no memory of that activity remain after the sleep 
has ceased. The first is evident ; for Oporinus, while reading, 
must have had his eyes, and the muscles of his tongue and 
fauces awake ; though his ears and other senses were asleep ; 
and the second is no less so, for the act of reading supposed a 
very complex series of mental energies. I may notice, by the 
way, that physiologists have observed, that our bodily senses 
and powers do not fall asleep simultaneously, but in a certain 
succession. We all know that the first symptom of slumber is 
the relaxation of the eyelids ; whereas, hearing continues alert 
for a season after the power of vision has been dormant. In 
the case last alluded to, this order was, however, violated ; and 
the sight was forcibly kept awake while the hearing had lapsed 
into torpidity. 

In the case of sleep, therefore, so far is it from being proved 
that the mind h at any moment unconscious, that the result of 
observation \\oiild incline us to the opposite conclusion. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

GENERAL PHENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS, — IS THE MIND 
EVER UNCONSCIOUSLY MODIFIED? 

I PASS now to a question in some respects of still more 
pro:^imate interest to the psychologist than that discussed in the 
preceding [chapter] ; for it is one which, according as it is 
decided, will determine the character of our explanation of 
many of the most important phasnomena in the philosophy of 
mind, and, in particular, the great phsenomena of Memory and 
Association. The question I refer to is, Whether the mind 
exerts energies^ and is the subject of modifications^ of neither of 
which it is conscious. This is the most general expression of a 
problem which has hardly been mentioned, far less mooted, in 
[Great Britain] ; and when it has attracted a passing notice, 
the supposition of an unconscious action or passion of the 
mind has been treated as something either unintelligible, or 
absurd. In Germany, on the contrary, it has not only been 
canvassed, but the alternative which the philosophers of this 
country have lightly considered as ridiculous, has been gravely 
established as a conclusion which the phaenomena not only war- 
rant, but enforce. The French philosophers, for a long time, 
viewed the question in the same light as the British. Condii- 
lac, indeed, set the latter the example ; but of late, a revolution 
is apparent, and two recent French psychologists have marvel- 
lously propounded the doctrine, long and generally established 
in Germany, as something new and unheard of before their 
own assertion of the paradox. 

Three degrees of mental latency, — This question is one not 
only of importance, but of difficulty ; I shall endeavor to make 
you understand its purport, by arguing it upon broader grounds 

(235) 



236 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

than has hitlierto been done, and shall prepare you, by some 
preliminary information, for its discussion. I shall, first of all, 
adduce some proof of the fact, that the mind may, and does, 
contain far more latent furniture than consciousness informs us 
it possesses. To simplify the discussion, I shall distinguish 
three degrees of this mental latency. 

In the Jirst place, it is to be remembered that the riches, the 
possessions, of our mind are not to be measured by its present 
momentary activities, but by the amount of its acquired habits. 
I know a science, or language, not merely while I make a tem- 
porary use of it, but inasmuch as I can apply it when and how 
I will. Thus the infinitely greater part of our spiritual treas- 
ures lies beyond the sphere of consciousness, hid in the 
obscure recesses of the mind. This is the first degree of 
latency. In regard to this, there is no difiiculty or dispute ; 
and I only take it into account in order to obviate misconcep- 
tion, and because it affords a transition towards the other two 
degrees, which it conduces to illustrate. 

The second degree of latency exists when the mind contains 
certain systems of knowledge, or certain habits of action, which 
it is wholly unconscious of possessing in its ordinary state, but 
which are revealed to consciousness in certain extraordinary 
exaltations of its powers. The evidence on this point shows 
that the mind frequently contains whole systems of knowledge, 
which, though, in our normal state, they have faded into absolute 
oblivion, may, in certain abnormal states, as madness, febrile 
delirium, somnambulism, catalepsy, etc., flash out into luminous 
consciousness, and even throw into the shade of unconsciousness 
those other systems by which they had, for a long period, been 
eclipsed, and even extinguished. For example, there are cases 
in which the extinct memory of whole languages was suddenly 
restored, and, what is even still more remarkable, in which the 
faculty was exhibited of accurately repeating, in known or un- 
known tongues, passages which were never within the grasp of 
conscious mem^ory in the normal state. This degree, this phae- 
nomenon of latency, is one of the most marvellous in the whole 
compass of philosophy ; and the proof of its reality will prepare 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 237 

US for an enlightened consideration of the third, of which the 
evidence, though not less certain, is not equally obtrusive. But, 
however remarkable and important, this plisenomenon has been 
almost wholly neglected by psychologists, and the cases which I 
adduce in illustration of its reality have never been previously 
collected and applied. That in madness, in fever, in somnam- 
bulism, and other abnormal states, the mind should betray ca- 
pacities and extensive systems of knowledge, of which it was at 
other times wholly unconscious, is a fact so remarkable that it 
may well demand the highest evidence to establish its truth. 
But of such a character is the evidence which I am now to 
give. It consists of cases reported by the most intelligent and 
trustworthy observers, — by observers wholly ignorant of each 
other's testimony; and the phaenomena observed were of so 
palpable and unambiguous a nature, that they could not possibly 
have been mistaken or misinterpreted. 

Evidence ffom cases of madness, — The first, and least inter- 
esting, evidence I shall adduce, is derived from cases of mad- 
ness ; it is given by a celebrated American physician, Dr. 
Rush. 

" The records of the wit and cunning of madmen," says the 
Doctor, " are numerous in every country. Talents for eloquence, 
poetry, music, and painting, and uncommon ingenuity in several 
of the mechanical arts, are often evolved in this state of mad- 
ness. A gentleman, whom I attended in an hospital in the year 
1810, often delighted as well as astonished the patients and ofii- 
cers of our hospital by his displays of oratory, in preaching 
from a table in the hospital yard every Sunday. A female pa- 
tient of mine who became insane after parturition, in the year 
1807, sang hymns and songs of her own composition during the 
latter stage of her illness, with a tone of voice so soft and pleas- 
ant that I hung upon it with delight every time I visited her. 
She had never discovered a talent for poetry or music in any 
previous part of her life. Two instances of a talent for draw- 
ing, evolved by madness, have occurred within my knowledge. 
And where is the hospital for mad people, in which elegant and 
completely rigged ships, and curious pieces of machinery, have 



238 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

not been exhibited by persons who never discovered the least 
turn for a mechanical art, previous to their derangement ? Some- 
times we observe in mad people an unexpected resuscitation of 
knowledge ; hence we hear them describe past events, and speak 
in ancient or modern languages, or repeat long and interesting 
passages from books, none of which, we are sure, they were ca- 
pable of recollecting in the natural and healthy state of their 
mind." 

Fro7n cases of fever, — The second class of cases are those 
of fever ; and the first I shall adduce is given on the authority 
of the patient himself. This is Mr. Flint, a very intelligent 
American clergyman. I take it from his Recollections of the 
Valley of the Mississippi, He was travelling in the State of 
Illinois, and suffered the common lot of visitants from other 
climates, in being taken down with a bilious fever. "I am 
aware," he remarks, " that every sufferer in this way is apt to 
think his own case extraordinary. My physicians agreed with 
all who saw me that my case was so. As very few live to 
record the issue of a sickness like mine, and as you have re- 
*quested me, and as I have promised, to be particular, I will 
relate some of the circumstances of this disease. And it is in 
my view desirable, in the bitter agony of such diseases, that 
more of the symptoms, sensations, and sufferings should have 
been recorded than have been; that others, in similar pre- 
dicaments, may know that some before them have had sufferings 
like theirs, and have survived them. I had had a fever before, 
a^d had risen and been dressed every day. But in this, with 
the first day, I was prostrated to infantine weakness, and felt, 
with its first attack, that it was a thing very different from what 
I had yet experienced. Paroxysms of derangement occurred 
the third day, and this was to me a new state of mind. That 
state of disease in which partial derangement is mixed with a 
consciousness generally sound, and a sensibility preternaturally 
excited, I should suppose the most distressing of all its forms. 
At the same time that I was unable to recognize my friends, I was 
informed that my memory was more than ordinarily exact and 
retentive, and that I repeated whole passages in tlie different 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 239 

languages which I knew, with entire accuracy. I recited, with- 
out losing or misplacing a word, a passage of poetry which I 
could not so repeat after I recovered my health." 

The following more curious case is given by Lord Monboddo, 
in his Ancient Metaphysics, 

'^ ' The Comtesse de Laval had been observed, by servants 
who sate up with her on account of some indisposition, to talk 
in her sleep a language that none of them understood ; nor were 
they sure, or, indeed, herself able to guess, upon the sounds 
being repeated to her, whether it was^*or was not gibberish. 

" ' Upon her lying in of one of her children, she was attended 
by a nurse, who was of the province of Brittany, and who im- 
mediately knew the meaning of what she said, it being in the 
idiom of the natives of that country ; but she herself, when 
awake, did not understand a single syllable of what she had 
uttered in her sleep, upon its being retold her. 

" ' She was born in that province, and had been nursed in a 
family where nothing but that language was spoken ; so that, in 
her first infancy, she had known it, and no other ; but when she 
returned to her parents, she had no opportunity of keeping up 
the use of it ; and, as I have before said, she did not under- 
stand a word of Breton when awake, though she spoke it in her 
sleep. 

" ' I need not say that the Comtesse de Laval never said or 
imagined that she used any words of the Breton idiom, more 
than were necessary to express those ideas that are within the 
compass of a child's knowledge of objects,' " etc. 

A highly interesting case is given by Mr. Coleridge in hi? 
Biographia Literaria, 

"It occurred," says Mr. Coleridge, "in a Roman Catholic 
town in Germany, a year or two before my arrival at Gottingen, 
and had not then ceased to be a frequent subject of conversa- 
tion. A young woman of four or five and twenty, who could 
neither read nor write, was seized with a nervous fever ; during 
which, according to the asseverations of all the priests and monks 
of the neighborhood, she became possessed, and, as it appeared, 
by a very learned devil. She continued incessantly talking 



240 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, in very pompous tones, and with 

most distinct enunciation Siieets full of her ravings 

were taken down from her own mouth, and were found to con- 
sist of sentences, coherent and intelligible each for itself, but 
with little or no connection with each other. Of the Hebrew^, 
a small portion only could be traced to the Bible ; the remainder 
Bcemed to be in the Kabbinical dialect. All trick or conspiracy 
was out of the question. Not only had the young woman ever 
been a harmless, simple creature ; but she was evidently labor- 
ing under a nervous fever.* In the town, in which she had been 
resident for many years as servant in different families, no solu- 
tion presented itself. A young physician, however, determined 
to trace her past life step by step ; for the patient herself was 
incapable of returning a rational answer. He at length suc- 
ceeded in discovering the place where her parents had lived : 
travelled thither, found them dead, but an uncle surviving ; and 
from him learned that the patient had been charitably taken by 
an old Protestant pastor at nine years old, and had remained 

with him some years, even till the old man's death 

Anxious inquiries were then, of course, made concerning the 
pastor's habits ; and the solution of the phsenomenon was soon 
obtained. For it appeared that it had been the old man's cus- 
tom, for years, to walk up and down a passage of his house into 
which the kitchen-door opened, and to read to himself, with a 
loud voice, out of his favorite books. A considerable number 
of these were still in the niece's possession. She added, that 
he was a very learned man, and a great Hebraist. Among his 
books were found a collection of Rabbinical writings, together 
with several of the Greek and Latin fathers ; and the physician 
succeeded in identifying so many passages with those taken 
down at the young woman's bedside, that no doubt could remain 
in any rational mind concerning the true origin of the impres- 
sions made on her nervous system." 

These cases thus evince the general fact, that a mental modi- 
fication is not proved not to be, merely because consciousness 
affords us no evidence of its existence. This general fact being 
established, I now proceed to consider the question in relation 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. ' 241 

to the third class or degree of latent modiiicaiions, — a class in 
relation to, and on the ground of wliich alone, it has ever hith- 
erto been argued by philosophers. 

The tiiird degree of latency. — The problem, then, in regard 
to this class is, — Are there, in ordinary, mental modijica' 
tio/fs, — I. e. mental activities and passivities^ of which we are 
unconscious, hut which manifest their existence by effects of 
which we are conscious ? 

In the question proposed, I am not only strongly inclined to 
the affirmative ; — nay, I do not hesitate to maintain, that what 
we are conscious of is constructed out of what we are not con- 
scious of, — that our whole knowledge, in fact, is made up of 
the unknown and the incognizable. 

This, at first sight, may appear not only paradoxical, but con- 
tradictory. It may be objected, 1°, How can we know that to 
exist which Hes beyond the one condition of all knowledge, — 
consciousness? And, 2°, How can knowledge arise out of 
ignorance, — consciousness out of unconsciousness, — the cog- 
nizable out of the incognizable, — that is, how can one opposite 
proceed out of the other? 

In answer to the first objection, — how can we know that of 
which we are unconscious, seeing that consciousness is the condi- 
tion of knowledge, — it is enough to allege, that there are many 
things which we neither know nor can know in themselves, — 
that is, in their direct and immediate relation to our faculties 
of knowledge, but which manifest their existence indirectly 
through the medium of their effects. This is the case with the 
mental modifications in question ; they are not in themselves 
revealed to consciousness, but as certain facts of consciousness 
necessarily suppose them to exist, and to exert an influence in 
the mental processes, we are thus constrained to admit, as 
modifications of mind, what are not in themselves phsenomena 
of consciousness. The truth of this will be apparent, if, before 
descending to any special illustration, we consider that con- 
sciousness cannot exist independently of some pecidiar modiftca- 
tion of mind; we are only conscious as we are conscious of a 
determinate state. To be conscious, we mijst be conscious of 

21 



242 ■ UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

some particular perception, or remembrance, or imagination, or 
feeling, etc. ; we have no general consciousness. But as con- 
sciousness supposes a special mental modification as its object, 
it must be remembered, that this modification or state supposes 
a change, — a transition from some other state or modification. 
But as the modification must be present, before we have a con- 
sciousness of the modification, it is evident, that we can have 
no consciousness of its rise or awakening; for its rise or 
awakening is also the rise or awakening of consciousness. 

But the illustration of this is contained in an answer to the 
second objection, which asks, — How can knowledge come out 
of ignorance, — consciousness out of unconsciousness, — the 
known out of the unknown, — how can one opposite be made 
up of the other? 

In the removal of this objection, the proof of the thesis 
which I support is involved. And without dealing in any gen- 
eral speculation, I shall at once descend to the special evi- 
dence, which appears to me not merely to warrant, but to^ 
necessitate the conclusion, that the sphere of our conscious 
modifications is only a small circle in the centre of a far wider 
sphere of action and passion, of which we are only conscious 
through its effects. 

I. External Perception, 1. The sense of Sight, — Let us 
take our first example from Perception, — the perception of 
external objects, and in that faculty, let us commence with the 
sense of sight. Now, you either already know, or can be at 
once informed, what it is that has obtained the name of Mini- 
mum Visihile, You are of course aware, in general, that visiop 
is the result of the rays of light reflected from the surface of 
objects to the eye ; a greater number of rays is reflected from a 
larger surface ; if the superficial extent of an object, and, con- 
sequently, the number of rays which it reflects, be diminished 
beyond a certain limit, the object becomes invisible ; and the 
minimum visihile is the smallest expanse which can be seen, — 
which can consciously affect us, — which we can be conscious 
of seeing. This being understood, it is plain that, if we divide 
this minimum visihile into two parts, neither half can, by itself. 



UNCONSCIOUS MLNTAL ACTION. 243 

be an object of vision, or visual consciousness. Thej are, sev- 
erally and apart, to consciousness as zero. But it is evident, 
that each half must, by itself, have produced in us a certain 
modification, real though unperceived ; for as the perceived 
whole is nothing but the union of the unperceived halves, so 
the perception — the perceived affection itself of which we are 
conscious — is only the sum of two modifications, each of which 
severally eludes our consciousness. When we look at a distant 
forest, we perceive a certain expanse of green. Of this, as an 
affection of our organism, we are clearly and distinctly con- 
scious. Now, the expanse, of which we are conscious, is evi- 
dently made up of parts of which we are not conscious. No 
leaf, perhaps no tree, may be separately visible. But the 
greenness of the forest is made up of the greenness of the 
leaves ; that is, the total impression of which we are conscious, 
is made up of an infinitude of small impressions of which we 
are not conscious. 

2. Sense of Hearing. — Take another example, from the 
sense of hearing. In this sense, there is, in like manner, a 
Minimum Audibile, that is, a sound the least which can come 
into perception and consciousness. But this minimum audibile 
is made up of parts which severally affect the sense, but of 
which affections, separately, we are not conscious, though of 
their joint result we are. We must, therefore, here likeAvise, 
admit the reality of modifications beyond the sphere of con- 
sciousness. To take a special example, ^^^len we hear the 
distant murmur of the sea, — what are the constituents of the 
total perception of which we are conscious ? This murmur is a 
sum made up of parts, and the sum would be as zero if the 
parts did not count as something. The noise of the sea is- the 
complement of the noise of its several waves ; — Ttovricjv rs 
xvfidrcov '^V7jQt{fiJiov yilaoiia ' and if the noise of each wave 
made no impression on our sense, the noise of the sea, as the 
result of these impressions, could not be realized. But the 
noise of each several wave, at the distance we suppose, is in- 
audible ; we must, however, admit that they produce a certain 
modification, beyond consciousness, on the percipient subject; 



244 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

for this is necessarily involved in the reality of their result. 
The same is equally the case in the other senses ; the taste or 
smell of a dish, be it agreeable or disagreeable, is composed of 
a multitude of severally imperceptible effects, which the stimu- 
hiting particles of the viand cause on different points of the 
nervous expansion of the gustatory and olfactory organs ; and 
the pleasant or painful feeling of softness or roughness is the 
result of an infinity of unfelt modifications, which the body 
handled determines on the countless papillae of the nerves of 
touch. 

IL Association of Ideas, — Let us now take an example 
from another mental process. We have not yet spoken of what 
is called the Association of Ideas ; and it is enough for our 
present purpose that you should be aware, that one thought 
suggests another in conformity to certain determinate laws, — 
laws to which the successions of our whole mental states are 
subjected. Now it sometimes happens, that we find one thought 
rising immediately after another in consciousness, but whose 
consecution we can reduce to no law of association. Now in 
these cases we can generally discover, by an attentive observa- 
tion, that these two thoughts, though not themselves associated, 
are each associated with certain other thoughts ; so that the 
whole consecution would have been regular, had these inter- 
mediate thoughts come into consciousness, between the two 
which are not immediately associated. Suppose, for instance, 
that A, B, C, are three thoughts, — that A and C cannot im- 
niediately suggest each other, but that each is associated with 

B, so that A will naturally suggest B, and B naturally suggest 

C. Now it may happen, that we are conscious of A, and, 
immediately thereafter, of C. How is the anomaly to be ex- 
plained ? It can only be explained on the principle of latent 
modifications. A suggests C, not immediately, but through B ; 
but as B, like the half of the minimum visihile or minimum 
audihile^ does not rise into consciousness, we are apt to consider 
it as non-existent. You are probably aware of the following 
fact in mechanics. If a number of billiard balls be placed in a 
straight row and touching each other, and if a ball be made to 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 245 

strike, in the line of the row, the bail at one end of the series, 
what will happen ? The motion of the impinging ball is not 
divided among the whole row ; this, which we might a priori 
have expected, does not happen ; but the impetus is transmitted 
through the intermediate balls, which remain each in its place, 
to the ball at the opposite end of the series, and this ball alone 
is impelled on. Something like this seems often to occur in the 
train of thought. One idea mediately suggests another into 
consciousness, — the suggestion passing through one or more 
ideas which do not themselves rise into consciousness. The 
awakening and awakened ideas here correspond to the ball 
striking and the ball struck off; while the intermediate ideas of 
which we are unconscious, but which carry on the suggestion, 
resemble the intermediate balls which remain moveless, but 
communicate the impulse. An instance of this occurs to me 
with which I was recently struck. Thinking of Ben Lomond, 
this thought was immediately followed by the thought of the 
Prussian system of education. Now, conceivable connection 
betwe,en these two ideas in themselves, there was none.* A 
little reflection, however, explained the anomaly. On my last 
visit to the mountain, I had met upon its summit a German 
gentleman, and though I had no consciousness of the interme- 
diate and unawakened links between Ben Lomond and the 
Prussian schools, they were undoubtedly these ; — the Ger- 
man, — Germany, — Prussia, — and, these media being admit- 
ted, the connection between the extremes was manifest. 

Stewards explanation of the phcenomenon, — I should perhaps 
reserve for a future occasion noticing Mr. Stewart's explanation 
of this phaenomenon. He admits that a perception or idea may 
pass through the mind without leaving any trace in the memory, 
and yet serve to introduce other ideas connected with it by the 
laws of association. Mr. Stewart can hardly be said to have 
contemplated the possibility of the existence and agency of 
mental modifications of which we are unconscious. He grants 
the necessity of interpolating certain intermediate ideas, in order 
to account for the connection of thought, which could otherwise 
be explained by no theory of association ; and he admits that 

21* 



246 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

these intermediate ideas are not known by memory to have 
actually intervened. So far, there is no difference in the two 
doctrines. But now comes the separation. Mr. Stewart sup- 
poses that the intermediate ideas are, for an instant, awakened 
into consciousness, but, in the same moment, utterly forgot; 
whereas the opinion I would prefer, holds that they are efficient 
without rising into consciousness. Mr. Stewart's doctrine on 
this point is exposed to all the difficulties, and has none of the 
proofs in its favQr which concur in establishing the other. 

Difficulties of Stewart's doctrine, — In the first place, to as- 
sume the existence of acts of consciousness of which there is 
no memory beyond the moment of existence, is at least as in- 
conceivable an hypothesis as the other. But, in the second 
place, it violates the whole analogy of consciousness, which the 
other does not. Consciousness supposes memory ; and we are 
only conscious as we are able to connect and contrast one in- 
stance of our intellectual existence with another. Whereas, to 
suppose the existence and efficiency of modifications beyond 
con*sciousness, is not at variance with its conditions ; for con- 
sciousness, though it assures us of the reahty of what is within 
its sphere, says nothing against the reality of what is without. 
In the third place, it is demonstrated, that, in perception, there 
are modifications, efficient, though severally imperceptible ; why, 
therefore, in the other faculties, should there not likewise be 
modifications, efficient, though unapparent ? In the fourth place, 
there must be some reason for the assumed fact, that there are 
perceptions or ideas of which we are conscious, but of which 
there is no memory. Now, the only reason that can possibly 
be assigned is, that the consciousness was too faint to afford the 
condition of memory. But of consciousness, however faint, 
there must be some memory, however short. But this is at 
variance with the phssnomenon ; for the ideas A and C may 
precede and follow each other without any perceptible interval, 
and without any, the feeblest, memory of B. If there be no 
memory, there could have been no consciousness ; and, there- 
fore, Mr. Stev/arfs hypothesis, if strictly interrogated, must, 
even at last, take refuge in our doctrine ; for it can easily be 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 247 

shown, that the degree of memory is directly in proportion to 
the degree of consciousness, and, consequently, that an absolute 
negation of memory is an absolute negation of consciousness. 

III. Our Acquired Dexterities and Habits, — Let us now 
turn to another class of phasnomena, which in like manner are 
capable of an adequate explanation only on the theory I have 
advanced ; — I mean the operations resulting from our Acquired 
Dexterities and Habits. 

To explain these, three theories have been advanced. The 
jirst regards them a's merely mechanical or automatic, and thus 
denying to the mind all active or voluntary intervention, conse- 
quently removes them beyond the sphere of consciousness. 
The second^ again, allows to each several motion a separate act 
of conscious volition ; while the third^ which I would maintain, 
holds a medium between these, constitutes the mind the agent, 
accords to it a conscious volition over the series, but denies to it 
a consciousness and deliberate volition in regard to each sepa- 
rate movement in the series which it determines. 

The first or mechanical theory, — The first of these has been 
maintained, among others, by two philosophers who in other 
points are not frequently at one, — by Reid and Hartley. 
" Habit," says E.eid, " differs from instinct, not in its nature, but 
in its origin ; the last being natural, the first acquired. Both 
operate without will or intention, without thought, and therefore 
may be called mechanical principles." In another passage, he 
expresses himself thus : " I conceive it to be a part of our con- 
stitution, that what we have been accustomed to do, we acquire 
not only a facility but a proneness to do on like occasions ; so 
that it requires a particular will or effort to forbear it, but to do 
it requires very often no will at all." 

The same doctrine is laid down still more explicitly by Dr. 
Hartley. " Suppose," says he, " a person who has a perfectly 
voluntary command over his fingers, to begin to learn to play 
on the harpsichord. The first step is to move his fingers, from 
key to key, with a slow motion, looking- at the notes, and exert- 
ing an express act of volition in every motion. By degrees, the 
motions cling to one another, and to the impressions of the notes. 



248 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

in the way of association^ so often mentioned ; tlie acts of voli- 
tion growing less and less express all the time, till, at last, they 
become evanescent and imperceptible. For an expert performer 
will play from notes, or ideas laid up in the memory, and, at the 
same time, carry on a quite different train of thoughts in his 
mind ; or even hold a conversation with another. Whence we 
conclude, that there is no intervention of the idea, or state of 
mind, called will." Cases of this sort Hartley calls " transitions 
of voluntary actions into automatic ones." 

The second theory hy Stewart, — The second theory is main- 
tained against the first by Mr. Stewart ; and I think his refuta- 
tion valid, though not his confirmation. " I cannot help thinking 
it," he says, " more philosophical to suppose, that those actions 
which are originally voluntary always continue so, although, in 
the case of operations which are become habitual in conse- 
quence of long practice, we may not be able to recollect every 
different volition. Thus, in the case of a performer on the 
harpsichord, I apprehend that there is an act of the will preced- 
ing every motion of every finger, although he may not be able 
to recollect these volitions afterwards, and although he may, 
during the time of his performance, be employed in carrying on 
a separate train of thought. For it must be remarked, that the 
most rapid performer can, when he pleases, play so slowly as to 
be able to attend to, and to recollect, every separate act of his 
will in the various movements of his fingers ; and he can grad- 
ually accelerate the rate of his execution, till he is unable to 
recollect these acts. Now, in this instance, one of two suppo- 
sitions must be made. The one is, that the operations in the 
two cases are carried on precisely in the same manner, and 
differ only in the degree of rapidity ; and that when this rapid- 
ity exceeds a certain rate, the acts of the will are too momentary 
to leave any impression on the memory. The other is, that 
when the rapidity exceeds a certain rate, the operation is taken 
entirely out of our hands, and is carried on by some unknown 
power, of the nature of which we are as ignorant as of the 
cause of the circulation of the blood, or of the motion of the 
intestines. The last supposition seems to me to be somewhat 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 249 

similar to that of a man who should maintain, that although a 
body projected with a moderate velocity is seen to pass through 
all the intermediate spaces in moving from one place to another, 
yet we are not entitled to conclude that this happens when the 
body moves so quickly as to become invisible to the eye. The 
iormer supposition is supported by the analogy of many other 
facts in our constitution. Of some of these I have already taken 
notice, and it would be easy to add to the number. An exj)ert 
accountant, for example, can sum up, almost with a single glance 
of his eye, a long column of figures. He can tell the sum, with 
unerring certainty, while, at the same time, he is unable to re- 
collect any one of the figures of which that sum is composed ; 
and yet nobody doubts that each of these figures has passed 
through his mind, or supposes, that, when the rapidity of the 
process becomes so great that he is unable to recollect the vari- 
ous steps of it, he obtains the result by a sort of inspiration. 
This last supposition would be perfectly analogous to Dr. Hart- 
ley's doctrine concerning the nature of our habitual exertions. 

" The only plausible objection which, I think, can be offered 
to the principles I have endeavored to establish on this subject, 
is founded on the astonishing and almost incredible rapidity they 
necessarily suppose in our intellectual operations. When a per- 
son, for example, reads aloud, there must, according to this doc- 
trine, be a separate volition preceding the articulation of every 
letter ; and it has been found by actual trial, that it is possible 
to pronounce about two thousand letters in a minute. Is it rea- 
sonable to suppose that the mind is capable of so many different 
acts, in an interval of time so very inconsiderable ? 

" With respect to this objection, it may be observed, in the 
first place, that all arguments against the foregoing doctrine with 
respect to our habitual exertions, in so far as they are founded 
on the inconceivable rapidity which they suppose in our intel- 
lectual operations, apply equally to the common doctrine con- 
cerning our perception of distance by the eye. But this is not 
all. To what does the supposition amount which is considered 
as so incredible ? Only to this, that the mind is so formed as to 
be a])le to carry on certain intellectual processes in intervals of 



250 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION, 

time too short to be estimated by our faculties ; a supposition 
which, so far from being extravagant, is supported by the anal- 
ogy of many of our most certain conclusions in natural philoso- 
phy. The discoveries made by the microscope have laid open 
to our senses a world of wonders, the existence of which hardly 
any man w^ould have admitted upon inferior evidence ; and have 
gradually prepared the way for those physical speculations, which 
explain some of thq most extraordinary phaenomena of nature 
by means of modifications of matter far too subtile for the 
examination of our organs. Why, then, should it be consid- 
ered as unphilosophical, after having demonstrated the existence 
of various intellectual processes wliich escape our attention in 
consequence of their rapidity, to carry the supposition a little 
further, in order to bring under the known laws of the human 
constitution a class of mental operations which must otherwise 
remain perfectly inexplicable? Surely, our ideas of time are 
merely relative, as well as our ideas of extension ; nor is there 
any good reason for doubting that, if our powers of attention 
and memory were more perfect than they are, so as to give us 
the same advantage in examining rapid events, which the micro- 
scope gives for examining minute portions of extension, they 
would enlarge our views with respect to the intellectual world, 
no less than that instrument has with respect to the material." 

Stewarfs theory shown to involve contradictions » — This doc- 
trine of Mr. Stewart, — that our acts of knowledge are made 
up of an infinite number of acts of attention, that is, of various 
acts of concentrated consciousness, there being required a sepa- 
rate act of attention for every minimum possible of knowledge, 
— I have already shown you, by various examples, to involve 
contradictions. In the present instance, its admission would 
constrain our assent to the most monstrous conclusions. Take ' 
the case of a person reading. Now, all of you must have ex- 
perienced, if ever under the necessity of reading aloud, that, if 
the matter be uninteresting, your thoughts, while you are going 
on in the performance of your task, are wholly abstracted from 
the book and its subject, and you are perhaps deeply occupied 
in a train of serious meditation. Here the process of reading 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 251 

is performed without interruption, iind with the most punctual 
accuracy ; and, at the same time, the process of meditation is 
carried on without distraction or fatigue. Now this, on Mr. 
Stewart's doctrine, would seem impossible ; for what does his 
theory suppose ? It supposes that separate acts of concentrated 
consciousness or attention are bestowed on each least movement 
in either process. But be the velocity of the mental operations 
what it may, it is impossible to conceive how transitions between 
such contrary operations could be kept up for a continuance 
without fatigue and distraction, even if we throw out of ac- 
count the fact, that the acts of attention to be effectual must be 
simultaneous, which on Mr. Stewart's theory is not allowed. 

We could easily give examples of far more complex opera- 
tions ; but this, with what has been previously said, I deem suf- 
ficient to show, that we must either resort to the first theory, 
which, as nothing but the assumption of an occult and incom- 
prehensible principle, in fact explains nothing, or adopt the 
theory that there are acts of mind so rapid and minute as to 
elude the ken of consciousness. 

The doctrine of unconscious mental modifications, — I shall 
now say something of the history of this opinion. It is a curi- 
ous fact that Locke attributes this opinion to the Cartesians, and 
he thinks it was employed by them to support their doctrine of 
the ceaseless activity of mind. In this, as in many other points 
of the Cartesian philosophy, he is, however, wholly wrong. On 
the contrary, the Cartesians made consciousness the essence of 
thought; and their assertion that the mind always thinks is, in 
their language, precisely tantamount to the assertion that the 
mind is always conscious. 

But what was not maintained by the Cartesians, and even in 
opposition to their doctrine, was advanced by Leibnitz. To 
this great philosopher belongs the honor of having originated 
till? opinion, and of having supplied some of the strongest argu- 
ments in its support. He was, however, unfortunate in the 
terms which he employed to propound his doctrine. The latent 
modifications, — the unconscious activities of mind, he denom- 
inated obscure ideas, obscure representations, perceptions without 



252 UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 

apperception or consciousness, insensible perceptions, etc. In 
this he violated the universal usage of language. Y or percep- 
tion, and idea, and representation, all properly involve the 
notion of consciousness, — it being, in fact, contradictory to 
speak of a representation not really represented — a percep- 
tion not really perceived — an actual idea of whose presence 
we are not aware. 

The close affinity of mental modifications with perceptions, 
ideas, representations, and the consequent commutation of 
these terms, have been undoubtedly the reasons why the Leib- 
nitzian doctrine was not more generally adopted, and why, in 
France and in Britain, succeeding philosophers have almost 
admitted, as a self-evident truth, that there can be no modifica- 
tion of mind devoid of consciousness. As to any refutation of 
the Leibnitzian doctrine, I know of none. Condillac is, indeed, 
the only psychologist who can be said to have formally proposed 
the question. He, like Mr. Stewart, attempts to explain why 
it can be supposed, that the mind has modifications of which we 
are not conscious, by asserting that we are, in truth, conscious 
of the modification, but that it is immediately forgotten. In 
Germany, the doctrine of Leibnitz was almost universally 
adopted. I am not aware of a philosopher of the least note by 
whom it has been rejected. 

This doctrine explains the phenomena, — The third hypothe- 
sis, then, — that . which employs the single principle of latent 
agencies to account for so numerous a class of mental phsenom- 
ena, — how does it explain the phasnomenon under considera- 
tion? Nothing can be more simple and analogical than its 
solution. As, to take an example from vision, — in the exter- 
nal perception of a stationary object, a certain space, an ex- 
panse of surface, is necessary to the minimum visibile ; in other 
words, an object of sight cannot come into consciousness unless 
it be of a certain size ; in like manner, in the internal percep- 
tion of a series of mental operations, a certain time, a certain 
duration, is necessary for the smallest section of continuous 
energy to which consciousness is competent. Some minimum 
of time must be admitted as the condition of consciousness 



UNCONSCIOUS MENTAL ACTION. 253 

and as time is divisible ad injinitum^ whatever minimum be 
taken, there must be admitted to be, beyond the cognizance of 
consciousness, intervals of time, in which, if mental agencies be 
performed, these will be latent to consciousness. If we suppose 
that the minimum of time, to which consciousness can descend, 
be an interval called six, and that six different movements be 
performed in this interval, tliese, it is evident, will appear to con- 
sciousness as a simple indivisible point of modified time ; pre- 
cisely as the minimum visihile appears as an indivisible point of 
modified space. And, as in the extended parts of the minimum 
visihile^ each must determine a certain modification on the per- 
cipient subject, seeing that the effect of the whole is only the 
conjoined effect of its parts, in like manner, the protended parts 
of each conscious instant, — of each distinguishable minunum 
of time, — though themselves beyond the ken of consciousness, 
must contribute to give the character to the whole mental state 
which that instant, that minimum, comprises. This being un- 
derstood, it is easy to see how we lose the consciousness of the 
several acts, in the rapid succession of many of our habits and 
dexterities. At first, and before the habit is acquired, every 
act is slow, and we are conscious of the effort of deliberation, 
choice, and volition ; by degrees, the mind proceeds with less 
vacillation and uncertainty ; at length, the acts become secure 
and precise : in proportion as this takes place, the velocity of 
the procedure is increased, and as this acceleration rises, the 
individual acts drop one by one from consciousness, as we lose 
the leaves in retiring further and further from the tree ; and, at 
last, we are only aware of the general state which results from 
these unconscious operations, as we can at last only perceive the 
greenness which results from the unperceived leaves. 



CHAPTER XV. 

GENE}*4L PH^JSrOMENA OF CONSCIOUSlSrESS. — DIFl^ICULTIES 
AND FACILITIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. — CLASSIFICA- 
TION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 

Before terminating the consideration of the general phse- 
nomena of consciousness, there are Three Principal Facts, 
which it would be improper altogether to pass over without 
notice, but the full discussion of which I reserve for Meta- 
physics Proper, when we come to establish upon their founda- 
tion our conclusions in regard to the Immateriality and Immor- 
tality of Mind ; — I mean the fact of our Mental Existence or 
Substantiality, the fact of our Mental Unity or Individuality, 
and the fact of our Mental Identity or Personality. In regard 
to these three facts, I shall, at present, only attempt to give a 
very summary view of what place they naturally occupy in our 
psychological system. 

Sdf -Existence, — The first of these — the fact of our own 
Existence — I have already incidentally touched on, in giving 
a view of the various possible modes in which the fact of the 
Duality of Consciousness may be conditionally accepted. 

The various modifications of which the thinking subject. Ego, 
is conscious, are accompanied with the feeling, or intuition, or 
belief, — or by whatever name the conviction may be called, — 
that I, the thinking subject, exist. This feeling has been called 
by philosophers the apperception, or consciousness, of our own 
existence ; but, as it is a simple and ultimate fact of conscious- 
ness, though it be clearly given, it cannot be defined or 
described. And for the same reason that it cannot be defined, 
it cannot be deduced or demonstrated ; and the apparent enthy- 
(254) 



PHJENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 255 

meme of Descartes — Cogiio ergo sum, [I think, therefore I 
am,] — if really intended for an inference, — if really intended 
to be more than a simple enunciation of the proposition, that 
the fact of our existence is given in the fact of our conscious- 
ness, is either tautological or false. Tautological, because 
nothing is contained in the conclusion which was not explicitly 
given in the premise, — the premise, Cogito, I think, being only 
a grammatical equation of JEgo sum cogitans, I am, or exist, 
thinhing. False, inasmuch as there would, in the first place, be 
postulated the reality of thought as a quality or modification, 
and then, from the fact of this modification, inferred the fact of 
existence, and of the existence of a subject ; whereas it is self- 
evident, that in the very possibility of a quality or modification, 
js supposed the reality of existence, and of an existing subject. 
Philosophers in general, among whom may be particularly 
mentioned Locke and Leibnitz, have accordingly found the evi- 
dence in a clear and immediate belief in the simple datum of 
consciousness ; and that tliis was likewise the opinion of Des- 
cartes himself, it would not be difiicult to show. 

Mental Unity, — The second fact — our Mental Unity or In- 
dividuality — is given with equal evidence as the first. As 
'jleaidy as I am conscious of existing, so clearly am I conscious 
it every moment of my existence, (and never more so than 
when the most heterogeneous mental modifications are in a state 
of rapid succession,) that the conscious Ego is not itself a mere 
modification, nor a series of modifications of any other subject, 
but that it is itself something dififerent from all its modifica- 
tions, and a self-subsistent entity. This feeling, belief, datum, 
or fact of our mental individuality or unity, is not more capable 
of explanation than the feeling or fact of our existence, wliich 
it indeed always involves. The fact of the deliverance of con- 
sciousness to our mental unity has, of course, never' been 
doubted ; but philosophers have been found to doubt its truth. 
According to Hume, our thinking Ego is nothing but a bundle 
of individual impressions and ideas, out of whose union in the 
imagination, the notion of a whole, as of a subject of that 
which is felt and thought is formed. According to Kant, it 



256 PHiENOMENA OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 

cannot be properly determined whether we e:x^st as substance 
or as accident, because the datum of individuahtj is a condition 
of the possibility of our having "thoughts and feelings ; in other 
words, of the possibility of consciousness ; and, therefore, al- 
though consciousness gives — cannot but give — the phcenom- 
enon of individuality, it does not follow that this phienomenon 
may not be only a necessary illusion. An articulate refutation 
of these opinions I cannot attempt at present, but their refuta* 
tior. is, in fact, involved in their statement. In regard to Hume, 
his sceptical conclusion is only an inference from the premises 
of the dogmatical philosophers, who founded their systems on a 
violation or distortion of the facts of consciousness. His con- 
clusion is, therefore, refuted in the refutation of their premises, 
which is accomplished in the simple exposition that they at once 
found on, and deny, the veracity of consciousness. And by this 
objection the doctrine of Kant is overset. For if he attempts 
to philosophize, he must assert the possibility of philosophy. 
But the possibility of philosophy supposes the veracity of con- 
sciousness as to the contents of its testimony ; therefore, in dis- 
puting the testimony of consciousness to our mental unity and 
substantiality, Kant disputes the possibility of philosophy, and, 
consequently, reduces his own attempts at philosophizing to ab- 
surdity. 

Mental Identity, — The third datum under consideration is 
the Identity of Mind or Person. This consists in the assurance 
we have, from consciousness, that our thinking Ego, notwith- 
standing the ceaseless changes of state or modification, of which 
it is the subject, is essentially the same thing, — the same per- 
son, at every period of its existence. On this subject, laying 
out of account certain subordinate differences on the mode of 
stating the fact, philosophers, in general, are agreed. Locke, in 
the Essay on the Human Understanding ; Leibnitz, in the Nou- 
veaux Essais ; Butler and Reid are particularly worthy of 
attention. In regard to this deliverance of consciousness, the 
truth of which is of vital importance, affording, as it does, the 
basis of moral responsibility and hope of immortality, — it is, 
like the last, denied by Kant to afford a valid ground of scientific 



DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 257 

certainty. He maintains that tliere is no cogent j)roof of the 
substantial permanence of our thinking self, because the feeling 
of identity is only the condition under which that thought ''is 
possible. Kant's doubt in regard to tlie present fact is refuted 
in the same manner as his doubt in regard to the preceding, and 
there are also a number of special grounds on which it can be 
shown to be untenable. But of these at another time. 

The peculiar di-fficulties of psychological investigation. — We 
have now terminated the consideration of Consciousness as the 
general faculty of thought, and as the only instrument and only 
source of Philosophy. But before proceeding to treat of the 
Special Faculties, it may be proper here to premise some obser- 
vations in relation to the peculiar Difficulties and peculiar Fa- 
cilities which we may expect in the application of consciousness 
to the study of its own phaenomena. I shall first speak of the 
difficulties. 

The Jirst difficulty in psychological observation arises from 
this, that the conscious mind is at once the observing subject and 
the object observed. What are the consequences of this ? In 
the first place, the mental energy, instead of being concentrated, 
is divided, and divided in two divergent directions. The state 
of mind observed, and the act of mind observing, are mutually 
in an inverse ratio ; each tends to annihilate the other. Is the 
state to be observed intense, all reflex observation is rendered 
impossible ; the mind cannot view as a spectator ; it is wholly 
occupied as an agent or patient. On the other hand, exactly in 
proportion as the mind concentrates its force in the act of re- 
flective observation, in the same proportion must the direct 
phsenomenon lose in vivacity, and, consequently, in the precision 
and individuality *of its character. This difficulty is manifestly 
insuperable in those states of mind, which, of their very nature, 
as suppressing consciousness, exclude all contemporaneous and 
voluntary observation, as in sleep and fainting. In states like 
dreaming, which allow at least of a mediate, but, therefore, only 
of an imperfect, observation, through recollection, it is not ahu- 
gether exclusive. In all states of strong mental emotion, thr 

22* 



258 DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 

passion is itself, to a certain extent, a negation of the tranquil- 
lity requisite for observation, so that we are thus impaled on the 
awkward dilemma, — either we possess the necessary tranquil- 
lity for observation, with little or nothing to observe, or there 
is something to observe, but we have not the necessary tran- 
quillity for observation. All this is completely opposite in 
our observation of the external world. There the objects he 
always ready for our inspection ; and we have only to open our 
eyes, and guard ourselves from the use of hypotheses and green 
spectacles, to carry our observations to an easy and successful 
termination. 

Want of mutual cooperation, — In the second place, in the 
study of external nature, several observers may associate them- 
selves in the pursuit ; and it is well known how cooperation and 
mutual sympathy preclude tedium and languor, and brace up 
the faculties to their highest vigor. Hence the old proverb, 
tmus homo, nullus homo, " As iron," says Solomon, " sharpen- 
eth iron, so a man sharpeneth the understanding of his friend." 
" In my opinion," says Plato, " it is well expressed by Homer, 

By mutual confidence and mutual aid, 

Great deeds are done, and great discoveries made;' 

for if we labor in company, we are always more prompt and 
capable for the investigation of any hidden matter. But if a 
man works out any thing by solitary meditation, he forthwith 
goes about to find some one with whom he may commune, no^* 
does he think his discovery assured until confirmed by the a 
quiescence of others." Aristotle, in like manner, referring to th^ 
same passage of Homer, gives the same solution. " Social oper- 
ation," he says, " renders us more energetic both in thought and 
action." Of this advantage the student of Mind is in a great 
measure deprived. He who would study the internal world must 
isolate himself in the solitude of his own thought ; a»d for man, 
who, as Aristotle observes, is more social by nature than any 
bee or ant, this isolation is not only ppJnful in itself, but, in 
place of strengthening his pov/ers, tends to rob them of what 
maintains their vigor and stimulates their exertion. 



DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 25^^ 

No fact of consciousness can he acc-epted at second hand, — Id 
the third place, " In the study of the material universe," [saji? 
Cardaillac,] ^' it is not necessary that each observer should him 
self make every observation. The phgenomena are here sc 
palpable and so easily described, that the experience ot one ob 
server suffices to make the facts which he has witnessed intelli- 
gible and credible to all. In point of fact, our knowledge of the 
external world is taken chiefly upon trust. The phcenomena of 
the internal world, on the contrary, are not thus capable of being 
described ; all that the first observer can do is to lead others to 
repeat his experience: in the science of mind, we can believe 
nothing upon authority, take nothing upon trust. In the physi- 
cal sciences, a fact viewed in different aspects and in different 
circumstances, by one or more observers of acknowledged 
sagacity and good faith, is not only comprehended as clearly by 
those who have not seen it for themselves, but is also admitted 
without hesitation, independently of all personal verification. 
Instruction thus suffices to make it understood, and the authority 
of the testimony carries with it a certainty which almost pre- 
cludes the possibility of doubt. 

" But this is not the case in the philosophy of mind. On the 
contrary, we can here neither understand nor believe at second 
hand. Testimony can impose nothing on its own authority ; 
and instruction is only instruction when it enables us to teach 
ourselves. A fact of consciousness, however well observed, 
however clearly expressed, and however great may be our con- 
fidence in its observer, is for us as nothing, until, by an expe- 
rience of our own, we have observed and recognized it our- 
selves. Till this be done, we cannot comprehend what it means, 
far less admit it to be true. Hence it follows that, in philoso- 
phy proper, instruction is limited to an indication of the position 
in which the pupil ought to place himself, in order, by his own 
observation, to verify for himself the facts which his instructor 
pronounces true." 

Phcenomena of consciousness only to he studied through mem- 
ory, — In i\\Q fourth place, the phsenomena of consciousness are 
not arrested during observation ; — they are in a ceaseless and 



260 DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 

rapid How ; each state of mind is indivisible but for a moment, 
and there are not two states or two moments of whose precise 
identity we can be assured. Thus, before we can observe a 
modification, it is already altered ; nay, the very intention of 
observing it, suffices for the change. It hence results that the 
phaenomenon can only be studied through its reminiscence ; but 
memory reproduces it often very imperfectly, and always in 
lower vivacity and precision. The objects of the external 
world, on the other hand, remain either unaltered during our 
observation, or can be renewed without change ; and we can 
leave off at will, and recommence our investigation, without 
detriment to its result. 

Presented only in succession, — In the fifth place, " The 
phsenomena of the mental world," [says Biunde,] "are not, 
like those of the material, placed by the side of each other in 
space. They want that form by which external objects attract 
and fetter our attention ; they appear only in rows on the 
thread of time, occupying their fleeting moment, and then van- 
ishing into oblivion ; whereas, external objects stand before us 
steadfast, and distinct, and simultaneous, in all the life and 
emphasis of extension, figure, and color." 

Naturally hlend with each other, — In the sixth place, the 
perceptions of the different qualities of external objects are 
decisively discriminated by different corporeal organs, so that 
color, sound, sol-idity, odor, flavor, are, in the sensations them- 
selves, contrasted, without the possibility of confusion. In an 
individual sense, on the contrary, it is not always easy to draw 
the line of separation between its perceptions, as these are con- 
tinually running into each other. Thus red and yellow are, in 
their extreme points, easily distinguished, but the transition 
point from one to the other is not precisely determined. Now, 
in our internal observation, the mental phaenomena cannot be 
discriminated like the perceptions of one sense from the per- 
ceptions of another, but only like the perceptions of the same. 
Thus the phaenomenon of feeling, of pleasure or pain, and 
the phaenomenon of desire, are, when considered in their re 
m(»ter divergent aspects, manifestly marked out and cont^^adis- 



DIFFICULTIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 261 

tinguished as different original modifications ; whereas, when 
viewed on their approximating side, they are seen to vslide so 
insensibly into each other, that it becomes impossible to draw 
between them any accurate line of demarcation. Thus the 
various qualities of our internal life can be alone discriminated 
by a mental process called Abstraction ; and abstraction is ex- 
posed to many liabilities of error. Nay, the various mental 
operations do not present themselves distinct and separate ; 
they are all bound up in the same unity of action; and as they 
are only possible through each other, they cannot, even in 
thought, be dealt with as isolated and apart. In the perception 
of an external object, the qualities are, indeed, likewise pre- 
sented by the different senses in connection, as, for example, 
vinegar is at once seen as yellow, felt as liquid, tasted as sour, 
and so on ; nevertheless, the qualities easily allow themselves in 
abstraction to be viewed as really separable, because they are all 
the properties of an extended and divisible body ; whereas in the 
mind, thoughts, feelings, desires, do not stand separate, though 
in juxtaposition, but every mental act contains at once all these 
qualities, as the constituents of its indivisible simplicity. 

Self -observation costs painful effort, — In the seventh place, 
the act of reflection on our internal modifications is riot accom- 
panied with that frequent and varied sentiment of pleasure, 
which we experience from the impression of external things. 
Self-observation costs us a greater effort, and has less excite- 
ment than the contemplation of the material world ; and the 
higher and more refined gratification, which it supplies when its 
habit has been once formed, cannot be conceived by those who 
have not as yet been trained to its enjoyment. " The first part 
of our life," [says Cardaillac,] " is fled before we possess the 
capacity of reflective observation ; while the impressions which, 
from earliest infancy, we receive from material objects, the 
wants of our animal nature, and the prior development of our 
external senses, all contribute to concentrate, even from the 
first breath of life, our attention on the world without. The 
second passes without our caring to observe ourselves. The 
outer life is too agreeable to allow the soul to tear itself from 



262 FACILITIES OF PSYCHOLOGICAL STUDY. 

its g atifications, and return frequently upon itself. And at the 
period when the material world has at length palled upon the 
senses, when the taste and the desire of reflection gradually 
feecome predominant, we then find ourselves, in a certain sort, 
already made up, and it is impossible for us to resume our life 
from its commencement, and to discover how we have become 
what we now are." " Hitherto," [says Ancillon,] " external 
objects have exclusively riveted our attention ; our organs have 
acquired the flexibility requisite for this peculiar kind of obser- 
vation ; we have learned the method, acquired the habit, and 
feel the pleasure which results from performing what we per- 
form with ease. But let us recoil upon oiirselves ; the scene 
changes ; the charm is gone ; difliculties accumulate ; all that is 
done, is done irksomely and with effort ; in a word, every thing 
within repels, every thing without attracts ; we reach the age 
of manhood without being taught another lesson than reading 
what takes place without and around us, whilst we possess 
neither the habit nor the method of studying the volume of our 
own thoughts." " For a long time, we are too absorbed in life 
to be able to detach ourselves from it in thought ; and when the 
desires and the feehngs are at length weakened or tranquil- 
lized, — when we are at length restored to ourselves, we can no 
longer judge of the preceding state, because we can no longer 
reproduce or replace it. Thus it is that our life, in a philo- 
sophical sense, runs like water through our fingers. We are 
carried along lost, whelmed in our life ; we live, but rarely see 
ourselves to live. 

" The reflective Ego, which distinguishes self from its transi- 
tory modifications, and which separates the spectator from the 
spectacle of life, which it is continually representing to itself, is 
never developed in the majority of mankind at all ; and even in 
the thoughtful and reflective few, it is formed only at a mature 
period, and is even then only in activity by starts and at inter- 
vals." 

The facilities of philosophical study. — But Philosophy has 
not only peculiar difliculties, it has also peculiar facilities. 
There is, indeed, only one external condition on which it is 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FaOULTIES. 263 

dependent, and that is language ; and when, in the progress of 
civilization, a language is once formed of a copiousness and pli- 
ability capable of embodying its abstractions without figurative 
ambiguity, then a genuine philosophy may commence. With 
this one condition, all is given ; the Philosopher requires for his 
discoveries no preliminary preparations, — no apparatus of 
instruments and materials. He has no new events to seek, as 
the Historian ; no new combinations to form, as the Mathema- 
tician. The Botanist, the Zoologist, the Mineralogist, can accu- 
mulate only by care, and trouble, and expense, an inadequate 
assortment of the objects necessary for their labors and obser- 
vations. But that most important and interesting of all studies 
of which man himself is the object, has no need of any thing 
external ; it is only necessary that the observer enter into his 
inner self, in order to find there all he stands in need of, or 
rather it is only by doing this, that he can hope to find any 
thing at all. If he only effectively pursue the rgethod of ob- 
servation and analysis, he may even dispense with the study of 
philosophical systems. This is at best only useful as a mean 
towards a deeper and more varied study of himself, and is often 
only a tribute paid by philosophy to erudition. 

We have now concluded the consideration of Consciousness, 
viewed in its more general relations, and shall proceed to an- 
alyze its more particular modifications, that is, to consider the 
various Special Faculties of Knowledge. 

It is here proper to recall to your attention the division I 
gave of the Mental Phaenomena into three great classes, — 
namely, the phaenomena of Knowledge, the phaenomena of 
Feeling, and the phaenomena of Conation. ' But as these vari- 
ous phaenomena all suppose Consciousness as their condition, — 
those of the first class, the phaenomena of Knowledge, being, 
indeed, nothing but consciousness in various relations, — it was 
necessary, before descending to the consideration of the subor- 
dinate, first to exhaust the prmcipal ; and in doing this, the 
discussion has been protracted to a greater length than I antici- 
pated. 

I now proceed to the particular investigation of the first class 



264 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES- 

of the mental plisenomena, — those of Knowledge or CognitioHj 
— and shall commence by delineating to you the distribution of 
the cognitive faculties which I shall adopt ; — a distribution dif- 
ferent from any other with which I am acquainted. But I would 
first premise an observation in regard to psychological powers, 
and to psychological divisions. 

Mental powers not distinguishable from the thinking principhy 
nor from each other, — As to mental powers, — under which 
term are included mental faculties and capacities, — you are not 
to suppose entities really distinguishable from the thinking 
principle, or really different from each other. Mental powers 
are not like • bodily organs. It is the same simple substance 
which exerts every energy of every faculty, however various, 
and which is affected in every mode of every capacity, however 
opposite. This has frequently been wilfully or ignorantly mis- 
understood ; and, among others. Dr. Brown has made it a mat- 
ter of reproach to philosophers in general, that they regarded 
the faculties into which they analyzed the mind as so many dis- 
tinct and independent existences. No reproach, however, can 
be more unjust, no mistake more flagrant ; and it can easily be 
shown that this is perhaps the charge, of all others, to which the 
very smallest number of psychologists need plead guilty. On 
this point. Dr. Brown does not, however, stand alone as an ac- 
cuser ; and, both before and since his time, the same charge has 
been once and again preferred, and this, in particular, with sin- 
gular infelicity, against Reid and Stewart. To speak only of 
the latter, — he sufficiently declares his opinion on the subject 
in a foot-note of the Dissertation : — "I quote," he says, " the 
following passage ffom Addison, 7?o^ as a specimen of his meta- 
physical acumen, but as a proof of his good sense in divining 
and obviating a difficulty, which, I believe, most persons will 
acknowledge occurred to themselves when they first entered on 
metaphysical studies : — ' Although we divide the soul into sev- 
eral powers and faculties, there is no such division in the soul 
itself, since it is the whole soul that remembers, understands, 
wills, or imagines. Our manner of considering the memory, 
understanding, will, imagination, and the like faculties, is for the 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 265 

better enabling us to express ourselves in such abstracted sub- 
jects of speculations, not that there is any such division in the 
goul itself.' In another part of the same paper, Addison ob- 
serves, ' that what we call the faculties of the soul are only the 
different wavs or modes in which the soul can exert herself.' " 

What is a mental power ? — I shall first state to you what is 
intended by the terms mental power, faculty, or capacity/ ; and 
then show you that no other opinion has been generally held by 
philosophers. 

It is a fact too notorious to be denied, that the mind is capa- 
ble of different modifications, — that is, can exert different actions, 
and can be affected by different passions. This is admitted. 
But these actions and passions are not all dissimilar; every 
action and passion is not different from every other. On the 
contrary, they are like, and they are unlike. Those, therefore, 
that are like, we group or assort together in thought, and bestow 
on them a common name ; nor are these groups or assortments 
manifold, — they are in fact few and simple. Again, every 
action is an effect; every action and passion a modification. 
But every effect supposes a cause ; every modification supposes 
a subject. When we say that the mind exerts an energy, we 
virtually say that the mind is the cause of the energy ; when 
we say that the mind acts or suffers, we say in other words, that 
the mind is the subject of a modification. But the modifications, 
that is, the actions and passions, of the mind, as we stated, all 
fall into a few resembling groups, which we designate by a pe- 
culiar name; and as the mind is the common cause^ and subject 
of all these, we are surely entitled to say in general that the 
mind has the faculty of exerting such and such a class of ener- 
gies, or has the capacity of being modified by such and such an 
order of affections. We here excogitate no new, no occult 
principle. We only generalize certain effects, and then infer 
that common effects must have a common cause ; we only clas- 
sify certain modes, and conclude that similar modes indicate the 
same capacity of being modified. There is nothing in all this 
contrary to the most rigid rules of philosophizing ; nay, it is the 
purest specimen of the inductive philosophy. 

23 



2G6 DISTBIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 

On this doctrine, a faculty is nolliing more than a general 
term for the causality the mind has of originating a certain class 
of energies ; a capacity, only a general term for the susceptibil- 
ity the mind has of being affected by a particular kind of emo- 
tions. All mental powers are thus, in short, nothing more than 
names determined by various orders of mental phaenomena. 
But as these phaenomena differ from, and resemble, each other 
in various respects, various modes of classification may, there- 
fore, be adopted, and consequently, various faculties and capaci- 
ties, in different views, may be the result. 

Value of Philosophical System, — And this is what we actu- 
ally see to be the case in the different systems of philosophy ; 
for each system of philosophy is a different view of the phae- 
nomena of mind. Now, here I would observe that we might 
fall into one or other of two errors, either by attributing too 
great or too small importance to a systematic arrangement of 
the mental phaenomena. It must be conceded to those who af- 
fect to undervalue psychological system, that system is neither 
the end first in the order of time, nor that paramount in the scale 
of importance. To attempt a definitive system or synthesis^ be- 
fore we have fully analyzed and accumulated the facts to be ar- 
ranged, would be preposterous, and necessarily futile ; and 
system is only valuable when it is not arbitrarily devised, but 
arises naturally out of an observation of the facts, and of the 
whole facts themselves ; trig TtoXXrjg TtsiQag xslevraTov Imytvvrnia, 

On the other hand, to despise system is to despise philosophy ; 
for the end of philosophy is the detection of unity. Even in 
the progress of a science, and long prior to its consummation, it 
is indeed better to assort the materials we have accumulated, 
even though the arrangement be only temporary, only provis- 
ional, than to leave them in confusion. For without such ar- 
rangement, we are unable to overlook our possessions ; and as 
experiment results from the experiment it supersedes, so system 
is destined to generate system in a progress never attaining, but 
ever approximating to, perfection. 

Having stated what a psychological power in propriety is, I 
may add that this, and not the other, opinion, has been the one 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 267 

prevalent in the various schools and ages of philosophy. I 
could adduce to you passages in which the doctrine that the 
faculties and capacities are more than mere possible modes, in 
which the simple indivisible principle of thought may act and 
exist, is explicitly denied by [many of] the fathers of the 
Church, by [many of] the Platonists, the Aristotelians, and by 
the whole host of recent philosophers. During the middle ages, 
the question was indeed one which divided the schools. St. 
Thomas, at the head of one party, held that the faculties were 
distinguished not only from each other, but from the essence of 
the mind ; and this, as they phrased it, really and not formally. 
Henry of Ghent, at the head of another party, maintained a 
modified opinion, — that the faculties were really distinguished 
from each other, but not from the essence of the soul. Scotus, 
again, followed by Occam and the whole sect of Nominalists, 
denied all real difference either between the several faculties, or 
between the faculties and the mind ; allowing between them 
only a formal or logical distinction. This last is the doctrine 
that has subsequently prevailed in the latter ages of philosophy ; 
and it is a proof of its universality, that few modern psycholo- 
gists have ever thought it necessary to make an exphcit profes- 
sion of their faith in what they silently assumed. No- accusation 
can, therefore, be more ungrounded than that which has been 
directed against philosophers, — that they have generally har- 
bored the opinion that faculties are, like organs in the body, 
distinct constituents of mind. The Aristotelic principle, that in 
relation to the body, " the soul is all in the whole and all in 
every part," — that it is the same indivisible mind that operates 
in sense, in imagination, in memory, in reasoning, etc., differ- 
ently indeed, but differently only because operating in different 
relations, — this opinion is the one dominant among psycholo- 
gists, and the one wdiich, though not always formally proclaimed, 
must, if not positively disclaimed, be in justice presumptively 
attributed to every philosopher of mind. Those who employed 
the old and familiar language of philosophy meant, in truth, 
exactly the same as those who would establish a new doctrine 
on a newfangled nomenclature. 



268 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIYE FACULTIES. 

What is Psychological Division ? — From what I have now 
said, you will be better prepared for what I am about to state 
in regard to the classification of the first great order of mental 
phsenomena, and the distribution of the faculties of Knowledge 
founded thereon. I formerly told you that the mental quali- 
ities — the mental phaenomena — are never presented to us 
separately ; they are always in conjunction, and it is only by an 
ideal analysis and abstraction that, for the purposes of science, 
they can be discriminated and considered apart. The prob- 
lem proposed in such an analysis is to find the primary threads 
which, in their composition, form the complex tissue of thought. 
In what ought to be accomplished by such an analysis, all phi- 
losophers are agreed, how^ever different may have been the 
result of their attempts. I shall not state and criticize the vari- 
ous classifications propounded of the cognitive faculties, as 1 
did not state and criticize the classifications propounded of the 
mental phgenomena in general. The reasons are the same. 
You would be confused, not edified. I shall only delineate the 
distribution of the faculties of knowledge, which I have 
adopted, and endeavor to afford you some general insight into 
its principles. At 23resent, I limit my consideration to the 
phaenomena of Knowledge ; with the two other classes — the 
phaenomena of Feehng and the phaenomena of Conation — we 
have at present no concern. 

I again repeat that consciousness constitutes, or is coexten- 
sive with, all our faculties of knowledge, — these faculties 
being only special modifications under which consciousness is 
manifested. It being, therefore, understood that consciousness 
is not a special faculty of knowledge, but the general faculty 
out of which the special faculties of knowledge are evolved, I 
proceed to this evolution. 

I. The Presentativ^- Faculty, - — In the first place, as we are 
endowed with a faculty of Cognition, or Consciousness in gen- 
eral, and since it cannot be maintained that we have always 
possessed the knowledge which we now possess, it will be 
admitted, that we must have a faculty of acquiring knowdedge. 
But this acquisition of knowledge can only be accomplished by 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 269 

the immediate presentation of a new object to consciousness, in 
other words, by the reception of a new object within the sphere 
of our cognition. "We have thus a facuUj which may be called 
the Acquisitive, or the Presentative, or the Receptive. The 
term Presentative I use, as you will see, in contrast and correla- 
tion to a Representative Faculty, of which I am immediately to 
speak. 

Subdivided into Perception and Self-Consciousness. — Now, 
new or adventitious knowledge may be either of things exter- 
nal, or of things internal; in other words, either of the pha)- 
nomena of the Non-ego, or of the phsenomena of the Ego ; and 
this distinction of object will determine a subdivision of this, 
the Acquisitive Faculty. If the object of knowledge be ex- 
ternal, the faculty receptive or presentative of the qualities of 
such object will be a consciousness of the Non-ego. This has 
obtained the name of External Perception, or of Perception 
simply. If, on the other hand, the object be internal, the 
faculty receptive or presentative of the qualities of such sub- 
ject-object will be a consciousness of the Ego. This faculty 
obtains the name of Internal or Reflex Perception, or of Self- 
Consciousness. By the foreign psychologists, this faculty is 
termed also the Internal Sense. 

Under the general faculty of cognition is thus, in the first 
place, distinguished an Acquisitive, or Presentative, or Recep- 
tive Faculty ; and this acquisitive faculty is subdivided into the 
consciousness of the Non-ego, or External Perception simply, 
and into the consciousness of the Ego, or Self-Consciousness, or 
Internal Perception. 

This acquisitive faculty is the faculty of Experience. It 
affords us exclusively all the knowledge we possess a posteriori : 
that is, our whole contingent knowledge, — our whole knowl- 
edge of fact. External perception is the faculty of external, 
self-consciousness is the faculty of internal, experience. If we 
limit the term Reflection in conformity to its original employ- 
ment and proper signification, — an attention to the internal 
phaBuomena^ — reflection will be an expression for seF -con- 
sciousness concentrated. 



270 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE lACLLTlES. 

n. The Conservative Faculty^ — In the second place, mas- 
much as we are capable of knowledge, we must be endowed 
not only with a faculty of acquiring, but with a faculty of re- 
taining or conserving it when acquired. By this faculty, I 
mean merely, and in the most limited sense, the power of men- 
tal retention. If our knowledge of any object terminated 
when the object ceased to exist, or to exist within the sphere of 
consciousness, our knowledge would hardly deserve the name : 
for what we actually perceive by the faculties of external and 
of internal perception is but an infinitesimal part of the knowl- 
edge which we actually possess. We have thus, as a second 
necessary faculty, one that may be called the Conservative or 
Retentive. This is Memory strictly so denominated, — that is, 
the power of retaining knowledge in the mind, but out of con-' 
sciousness ; I say retaining knowledge in the mind, but out of 
consciousness, for to bring the retentum out of memory into 
consciousness is the function of a totally different faculty, of 
which we are immediately to speak. Under the general faculty 
of cognition is thus, in the second place, distinguished the Con- 
servative or Retentive Faculty, or Memory Proper. Whether 
there be subdivisions of this faculty, we shall not here inquire. 

III. The Reproductive Faculty, — But, in the third place, if 
we are capable of knowledge, it is not enough that we possess a 
faculty of acquiring, and a faculty of retaining it in the mind, 
but out of consciousness ; we must further be endowed with a 
faculty of recalling it out of UMConsciousness into consciousness, 
in short, a reproductive power. This Reproductive Faculty is 
governed by the laws which regulate the succession of our 
thoughts, — the laws, as they are called, of Mental Association. 
If these laws are allowed to operate without the intervention 
of the will, this faculty may be called Suggestion^ or Sponta- 
neous Suggestion ; whereas, if applied under the influence of 
the will, it will properly obtain the name of Reminiscence, or 
Recollection. By reproduction, it should be observed, that I 
strictly mean the process of recovering the absent thought from 
unconsciousness, and not its representation in consciousness. 
This reproductive faculty is commonly confounded with the 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIEa 271 

conservative, under the name of Memory ; but most errone- 
ouslj. These quaUties of mind are totally unlike, and are pos- 
sessed by different individuals in the most different degrees. 
Some have a strong faculty of conservation, and a feeble fac- 
ulty of reproduction ; others, again, a prompt and active rem- 
iniscence, but an evanescent retention. Under the general 
faculty of cognition, there is thus discriminated, in the third 
place, the Reproductive Faculty. 

ly. The Representative Faculty, — In the fourth place, as 
capable of knowledge, we must not only be endowed with a 
presentative, a conservative, and a reproductive faculty ; there 
is required for their consummation — for the keystone of the 
arch — a faculty of representing in consciousness, and of keep- 
ing before the mind the knowledge presented, retained, and 
reproduced. We have thus a Representative Faculty ; and 
this obtains the name of Imagination or Phantasy. The word 
Fancy is an abbreviation of the latter ; but with its change of 
form, its meaning has been somewhat modified. Phantasy^ 
which latterly has been little used, was employed in the lan- 
guage of the older English philosophers, as, like its Greek 
original, strictly synonymous with Imagination. 

The element of imagination is not to be confounded with the 
element of reproduction, though this is frequently, nay com- 
monly, done ; and this either by comprehending these two qual- 
ities under imagination, or by conjoining them with the quality 
of retention under memory. The distinction I make is valid. 
For the two faculties are possessed by different individuals in 
very different degrees. It is not, indeed, easy to see how, with- 
out a representative act, an object can be reproduced. But the 
fact is certain, that the two powers have no necessary propor- 
tion to each other. The representative faculty has, by philoso- 
phers, been distinguished into the Productive or Creative, and 
the Reproductive, Imagination. I shall hereafter ^how you that 
this distinction is untenable. 

V. The Elahorative Faculty, — In the fifth place, all the fac- 
ulties we have considered are only subsidiary. They acquire, 
preserve, call out, and hold up the materials, for the use of a 



272 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 

higher faculty which operates upon these materials, and which 
we ma/ call the Elaborative or Discursive Faculty. This fac- 
ulty has only one operation, it only compares ; — it is Compari^ 
son, — the faculty of Relations. It may startle you to hear 
that the highest function of mind is nothing higher than com- 
parison, but in the end, I am confident of convincing you of the 
paradox. Under Comparison, I include the conditions, and the 
results, of Comparison. In order to compare, the mind must 
divide or separate, and conjoin or compose. Analysis and syn- 
thesis are, therefore, the conditions of comparison. Again, the 
result of comparison is either the affirmation of one thing of 
another, or the negation of one thing of another. If the mind 
affirm one thing of another, it conjoins them, and is thus again 
synthesis. If it deny one thing of another, it disjoins them, 
and is thus again analysis. Generalization, which is the result 
of synthesis and analysis, is thus an act of comparison, and is 
properly denominated Conception. Judgment is only the com- 
parison of two terms or notions directly together ; Reasoning, 
only the comparison of two terms or notions with each other 
through a third. Conception or Generalization, Judgment and 
Reasoning, are thus only various applications of Comparison, 
and not even entitled to the distinction of separate faculties. 

Under the general cognitive faculty, there is thus discrim- 
inated a fifth special faculty in the Elaborative Faculty, or 
Comparison. This is Thought, strictly so called ; it corresponds 
to the /lidvoia of the Greek, to the Disciirsus of the Latin, to 
the Verstand of the German philosophy ; and its laws are the 
object of Logic. 

VI. The Regulative Faculty. — But, in the sixth and last 
place, the mind is not altogether indebted to experience for the 
whole apparatus of ^ its knowledge; — its knowledge is not all 
adventitious, not all a posteriori. What we know by expe- 
rience, without experience we should not have known; and as 
all our experience is contingent, all the knowledge derived 
from experience is contingent also. But there are cognitions 
in the mind which are not contingent, — wlilch are necespary, — 
which we cannot but think, — which thought supposes as its 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 273 

fundamental condition. These a priori cognitions are the laws 
or conditions of thought in general ; consequently, the laws and 
conditions under which our knowledge a posteriori is possible. 
These cognitions, therefore, are not mere generalizations from 
experience. But if not derived from experience, they must be 
native to the mind ; unless, on an alternative that we need not 
at present contemplate, we suppose with Plato, St. Austin, 
Cousin, and other philosophers, that Reason, or more properly 
Intellect, is impersonal, and that we are conscious of these nec- 
essary cognitions in the divine mind. These native, these 
necessary cognitions, are the laws by which the mind is gov- 
erned in its operations, and which afford the conditions of its 
capacity of knowledge. These necessary laws, or primary con- 
ditions, of intelligence, are phaenomena of a similar character ; 
and we must, therefore, generalize or collect them into a class ; 
and on the power possessed by the mind of manifesting these 
phaenomena, w^e may bestow the name of the Regulative Fac- 
ulty. This faculty corresponds in some measure to what, in 
the Aristotelic philosophy, was called Novg, — vovg (intellectus, 
mens), when strictly employed, being a term, in that philosophy, 
for the place of principles, — the locus principiorum. It is 
analogous, likewise, to the term Reason, as occasionally used by 
some of the older English philosophers, and to the Vernunft 
(reason) in the philosophy of Kant, Jacobi, and others of the 
recent German metaphysicians, and from them adopted into 
France and England. It is also nearly convertible with what I 
conceive to be Reid's, and certainly Stewart's, notion of Com- 
mon Sense. This, the last general faculty which I would dis- 
tinguish under the Cognitive Faculty, is thus what I would call 
the Regulative or Legislative, — its synonyms being Novg^ 
Intellect, or Common Sense. 

You will observe that the term faculty can be applied to the 
class of phaenomena here collected under one name, only in a 
very different signification from what it bears when applied to 
the preceding powers. For i^ovg, intelligence or common sense, 
meaning merely the complement of the fundamental principles 
or laws of thought, is not properly a faculty ; that is, it is not an 



274 DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 

active power at all. As it is, however, not a capacity, it is not 
easy to see by what other word it can be denoted. 

Knowledge a priori and a posteriori explained. — By the way, 
you will please to recollect these two relative expressions. As 
used in a psychological sense, a knowledge a posteriori is a syn- 
onym for knowledge empirical, or from experience ; and, con- 
sequently, is adventitious to the mind, as subsequent to, and in 
consequence of, the exercise of its faculties of observation. 
Knowledge a priori^ on the contrary, called likewise native, 
pure, or transcendental knowledge, embraces those principles 
which, as the conditions of the exercise of its faculties of obser- 
vation and thought, are, consequently, not the result of that 
exercise. True it is that, chronologically considered, our a pri- 
ori is not antecedent to our a posteriori knowledge ; for the 
internal conditions of experience can only operate when an 
object of experience has been presented. In the, order of time, 
our knowledge, therefore, may be said to commence with expe- 
rience, but to have its principle antecedently in the mind. Much 
as has been written on this matter by the greatest philosophers, 
this all-important doctrine has never been so well stated as in 
an unknown sentence of an old and now forgotten thinker: 
" Cognitio omnis a mente primam originem, a sensibus exordium 
habet primum " — [All knowledge has its primitive source in the 
mind, its beginning in the senses.] These few words are worth 
many a modern volume of philosophy. You will observe the 
felicity of the expression. The whole sentence has not a su- 
perfluous word, and yet is absolute and complete. Mens^ the 
Latin term for vovg, is the best^possible word to express the 
intellectual source of our a priori principles, and is well opposed 
to sensus. But the happiest contrast is in the terms origo and 
exordium ; the former denoting priority in the order of exist- 
ence, the latter priority in the order of time. 

The following is a tabular view of the distribution of the 
Special Faculties of Knowledge : 



DISTRIBUTION OF THE COGNITIVE FACULTIES. 275 



> 



fcX) 

o 
Q 



I. Presentative 
11. Conservative 

III. Reproductive 

IV. Kepresentative 
V. Elaborative 

VI. Resrulative 



i Externals Perception. 
Internal = Self-consciousness. 
= Memory. 

( Without will = Suj2:_j^cstion. 
I With will = Reminiscence. 
= Imagination. 

= Comparison, — Faculty of Relations. 
= Reason, — Common Sense. 



Besides these faculties, there are, I conceive, no others ; and, 
in the sequel, I shall endeavor to show you, that while these are 
attributes of mind not to be confounded, — not to be analyzed 
into each other, — the other faculties which have been devised 
by philosophers are either factitious and imaginary, or easily 
reducible to these. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — REID'S HISTORICAL VIEW OP 
THE THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 



Use of the term Cognition vindicated, — I may here notice, 
parenthetically, the reason why I frequently employ cognition 
as a synonym of knowledge. This is not done merely for the 
sake of varying the expression. In the first place, it is neces- 
sary to have a word of this signification, which we can use in 
the plural. Now the term knowledges has waxed obsolete, though 
I think it ought to be revived. It is frequently employed by 
Bacon. We must, therefore, have recourse to the term cogni- 
tion^ of which the plural is in common usage. But in the 
second place, we must likewise have a term for knowledge 
which we can employ adjectively. The word knowledge itself 
has no adjective, for the participle knowing is too vague and 
unemphatic to be employed, at least, alone. But the substantive 
cognition has the adjective cognitive. Thus, in consequence of 
having a plural and an adjective, cognition is a word we cannot 
possibly dispense with in psychological discussion. It would 
also be convenient, in the third place, for psychological precision 
and emphasis, to use the word to cognize in connection with its 
noun cognition^ as we use the decompound to recognize in con- 
nection with its noun recognition. But in this instance, the 
necessity is not strong enough to warrant our doing what cus- 
tom has not done. You will notice, such an innovation is always 
a question of circumstances ; and though ^ would not subject 
Philosophy to Rhetoric more than Gregory the Great would 
Theology to Grammar, still, without an adequate necessity, I 
should always recommend you, in your English compositions, t(? 
(276) 



THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 277 

prefer a word of Saxon, to a word of Greek or Latin derivation. 
It would be absurd to sacrifice meani-ng to its mode of utterance, 
— to make thought subordinate to its expression ; but still where 
no higher authority, no imperious necessity, dispenses with phil- 
ological precepts, these, as themselves the dictates of reason and 
philosophy, ought to be punctiliously obeyed. " It is not in 
language," says Leibnitz, " that we ought to play the puritan ; '* 
but it is not either for the philosopher or the theologian to throw 
off all deference to the laws of language, — to proclaim of their 
doctrines, 

" Hysteria tanta 
Turpe est gramraaticis submittere coUa capistris/^ 

The general right must certainly be asserted to the philosopher 
of usurping a peculiar language, if requisite to express his pe- 
culiar analyses ; but he ought to remember that the exercise of 
this right, as odious and suspected, is strictissimi juris, and that, 
to avoid the pains and penalties of grammatical recusancy, he 
must always be able to plead a manifest reason of philosophical 
necessity. But to return from this digression. 

Mental phcenomena distinguished only hy ahstraction, — The 
phgenomena of mind are never presented to us undecomposed 
and simple ; that is, we are never conscious of any modification 
of mind which is not made up of many elementary modes ; but 
these simple modes we are able to distinguish, by abstraction, as 
separate forms or qualities of our internal life, since, in differ- 
ent states of mind, they are given in different proportions and 
combinations. "We are thus able to distinguish as simple, by an 
ideal abstraction and analysis, what is never actually given ex- 
cept in composition ; precisely as we distinguish color from 
extension, though color is never presented to us apart, nay, can- 
not even be conceived as actually separable, from extension. 
The aim of the psychologist is thus to analyze,. by abstraction, 
the mental phsenomena into those ultimate or primary quahties, 
which, in their combination, constitute the concrete complexities 
of actual. thought. K the simple constituent phaenomenon be a 
mental activity, we give to the active powder thus possessed by 

24 



278 THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 

the mind of eliciting such elementary energy the name of fac- 
ulty ; wher(ias, if the simple or constituent phsenomenon be a 
mental passivity, we give to the passive power thus possessed by 
the mind of receiving such an elementary affection, the name 
of capacity. Thus it is that there are just as many simple fac- 
ulties as there are ultimate activities of mind ; as many simple 
capacities as there are ultimate passivities of mind ; and it is 
consequently manifest that a system of the mental powers can 
never be final and complete, until Ave have accomplished a full 
and accurate analysis of the various fundamental phienomena 
of our internal life. And what does such an analysis suppose ? 
Manifestly three conditions : — 1°, That no phsenomenon be as- 
sumed as elementary which can be resolved into simpler princi- 
ples ; 2°, That no elementary phsenomenon be overlooked ; and 
3°, That no imaginary element be interpolated. 

These are the rules which ought evidently to govern our psy- 
chological analyses. I could^ show, however, that these have 
been more or less violated in every attempt that has been made 
at a determination of the constituent elements of thought ; for 
philosophers have either stopped short of the primary phsenom- 
enon, or they have neglected it, or they have substituted another 
in its room. I declined, however, ^t present, an articulate criti- 
cism of the various systems of the human powers proposed by 
philosophers, and passed on to the summary distribution of the 
cognitive faculties given in the last chapter. It is evident that 
such a distribution, as the result of an analysis, cannot be appreci- 
ated until the analysis itself be understood ; and this can only 
be understood after the discussion of the several faculties and 
elementary phaenomena has been carried through. You are, 
therefore, at present to look upon this scheme as little more 
than a table of contents to the various chapters, under which 
the phaenomena of knowledge will be considered. I now only 
make a statement of what I shall subsequently attempt to prove. 
The principle of the distribution is, however, of such a nature 
that I flatter myself it can, in some measure, be comprehended 
even on its first enunciation : for the various elementary phce- 
nomena, and the relative faculties which it assumes, are of so 



THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 279 

notorioas and necessary a character, that they cannot possibly 
be refused ; and, at the same time, they are discriminated from 
each other both by obvious contrast, and by the fact that they 
are manifested in different individuals each in very various 
proportions to each other. 

The general faculty of knowledge is thus, according to this 
distribution, divided into six special faculties : first, the Acquis- 
itive, Presentative, or Receptive ; second, the Conservative ; 
third, the Reproductive ; fourth, the Representative ; fifth, the 
Elaborative ; and sixth, the Regulative. The first of these, the 
Acquisitive, is again subdivided into two faculties, — Perception 
and Self- Consciousness ; the third into Suggestion and Reminis- 
cence ; and the fifth may likewise admit of subdivisions, into 
Conception, Judgment, and Reasoning, which, however, as 
merely applications of the same act in different degrees, hardly 
warrant a distinction into separate faculties. I now proceed to 
consider these faculties in detail. 

The Presentative Faculty — Perception, — Perception, or the 
consciousness of external objects, is the first power in order. 
And, in treating of this faculty, — the faculty on which turns 
the whole question of Idealism and Realism, — it is perhaps 
proper, in the first place, to take an historical survey of the hy- 
potheses of philosophers in regard to Perception. In doing 
this, I shall particularly consider the views which Reid has 
given of these hypotheses : his authority on this the most im- 
portant part of his philosophy is entitled to high respect ; and 
it is requisite to point out to you, both in what respects he ha? 
misrepresented others, and in what been misrepresented him 
self. 

Before commencing this survey, it is proper to state, in a few 
words, the one, the principal, point in regard to which opinions 
vary. The grand distinction of philosophers is determined by 
the alternative they adopt on the question, — Is our perception, 
or our consciousness of external objects^ mediate or immediate f 

As we have seen, those who maintain our knowledge of ex- 
ternal objects to be immediate, accept implicitly the datum of 
consciousness, which gives as an ultimate fact^ in this act, an ego 



280 THE PKESENTATIVE FACULTY. 

immediately known, and a non-ego immediately known. Those 
again who deny that an external object can be immediately 
known, do not aT^cept one-half of the fact of consciousness, but 
Bubsiitute some hypothesis in its place, — not, however, always 
the same. Consciousness declares that we have an immediate 
knowledge of a non-ego, and of an external non-ego. 

Two hypotheses of Mediate Perception. — Now, of the phi- 
losophers w^ho reject this fact, some admit our immediate knowl- 
edge of a non-ego, but not of an external non-ego. They do 
not limit the consciousness or immediate knowledge of the mind 
to its own modes, but conceiving it impossible for the external 
reality to be brought within the sphere of consciousness, they 
hold that it is represented by a vicarious image, numerically 
different from mind, but situated somewhere, either in the brain 
or mind, within the sphere of consciousness. Others, again, 
deny to the mind not only any consciousness of an extfernal 
non-ego, but of a non-ego at all, and hold that what the mind 
immediately perceives, and mistakes for an external object, is 
only the ego itself peculiarly modified. These two are the only 
generic varieties possible of the representative hypothesis. 
And they have each their respective advantages and disad- 
vantages. They both equally afford a basis for Idealism. On 
the former, Berkeley established his Theological, on the latter, 
Fichte his Anthropological, Idealism. Both violate the testi- 
mony of consciousness, the one the more complex and the 
clumsier, in denying that we are conscious of an external non- 
ego, though admitting that we are conscious of a non-ego 
within the sphere of consciousness, either in the mind or brain. 
The other, the simpler and more philosophical, outrages, how- 
ever, still more flagrantly, the veracity of consciousness, in 
denying not only that w^e are conscious of an external non-ego, 
but that we are conscious of a non-ego at all.'* 

^ [Nothing is easier than to show that, so far from refuting Idealism, this 
doctrine affords it the best of all possible foundations An Egoisti- 
cal Idealism is established on the doctrine that all our knowledge is merely 
subjective, or of the mind itself; that the Ego has no immediate cognizance 
of a N'on-Ego as existing, but that the Non-Ego is only represented to us 



THE PRESENT ATI VE FACULTY. 2BI 

Each of these hypotheses of a representative perception 
admits of various subordinate hypotheses. Thus the former, 
which holds that the representative or immediate object is a 
tertium quid^ different both from the mind and from the exter- 
nal reality, is subdivided, according as the immediate object is 
viewed as material, as immaterial, or as neither, or as both, as 
something physical or as something hyperphysical, as propa- 
gated from the external object, as generated in the medium, or 
as fabricated in the soul itself; and this latter, either in the 
intelligent mind or in the animal life, as infused by God or by 
angels, or as identical with the divine substance, and so forth. 
In the latter, the representative modification has been regarded 
either as factitious, that is, a mere product of mind; or as 
innate, that is, as independent of any mental energy. 

Raid's error, — Reid, who, as I shall hereafter endeavor to 
show you, probably holds the doctrine of an Intuitive or Imme 
diate Perception, never generalized, never articulately under- 
stood, the distinction of the two forms of the Representative 
Hypothesis. This was the cause of the most important errors 
on his part. In the first place, it prevented him from drawing 
the obtrusive and vital distinction between Perception, to him a 

in a modification of the self-conscious Ego. This doctrine being admitted, 
the Idealist has only to show, that the supposition of a Non-Ego, or 'an 
external world really existent, is a groundless and unnecessary assump- 
tion ; for, while the Law of Parcimony prohil)its the multiplication of sub- 
stances or causes beyond what the phsenomena require, we have manifestly 
no right to postulate for the Non-Ego the dignity of an independent sub- 
Jtance beyond the Ego, seeing that this Non-Ego is, ex liypothesl, known to 

us, consequently exists for us, only as a phaenomenon of the Ego 

All our knowledge of the Non-Ego is thus merely ideal and mediate ; we 
have no knowledge of any really objective reality, except through a sub- 
jective representation or notion; in other words, we are only immediately 
cognizant of certain modes of our own minds, and, in and through them, 

mediately warned of the phgenomena of the material universe The 

common sense of mankind only assures us of the existence of an external 
and extended world, in assuring us that we are conscious, not merely of the 
phaenomena of mind in relation to matter, but of the ph^enomena of mat- 
ter in relation to mind ; — in other words, that we are immediately percipi- 
ent of extended things.] — Notes to Reid. 

Q4^ 



282 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION-. 

faculty immediately cognitive, or presentative of external ob- 
jects, and the faculties of Imagination and Memory, in which 
external objects can- only be known to the mind mediately, or in 
a representation. In the second place, this, as we shall see, 
causes him the greatest perplexity, and sometimes, leads him 
into errors in his history of the opinions of previous philoso- 
phers, in regard to which he has, independently of this, been 
guilty of various mistakes. 

Brown's error, — As to Brown, he holds the simple doctrine 
of a representative perception, — a doctrine which Reid does 
not seem to have understood ; and this opinion he not only 
holds himself, but attributes, with one or two exceptions, to all 
modern philosophers, nay, even to Keid himself, whose philoso- 
phy he thus maintains to be one great blunder, both in regard 
to the new truths it professes to establish, and to the old errors 
it professes to refute. It turns out, however, that Brown in 
relation to Reid is curiously wrong from first to last, — not one 
of Reid's numerous mistakes, historical and philosophical, does 
he touch, far less redargue ; whereas, in every point on which 
he assails Reid, he himself is historically or philosophically in 
error. 

Reid's historical review, — The Platonic theory, — This being 
premised, I now proceed to follow Reid through his historical 
view and scientific criticism of the various theories of Percep- 
tion ; and I accordingly commence with the Platonic. In this, 
however, he is unfortunate, for the simile of the cave, which is 
applied by Plato in the seventh book of the Republic, was n^ 
intended by him as an illustration of the mode of our sensibL 
perception at alL "Plato," says Reid, "illustrates our manner 
of perceiving the objects of sense in this manner. He sup- 
poses a dark subterraneous cave, in which men lie bound in such 
a manner that they can direct their eyes only to one part of the 
cave : far behind, there is a light, some rays of which come 
over a wall to that part of the cave which is before the 
eyes of our prisoners. A number of persons, variously em- 
ployed, pass between them and the light, whose shadows are 
seen by the prisoners, but not the persons themselves. In this 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 283 

manner, that philosopher conceived that, bj our senses, we per- 
ceive the shadows of things only, and not things themselves. 
He seems to have borrowed his notions on this subject from the 
Pythagoreans, and they very probably from Pythagoras him- 
self. If we make allowance for Plato's allegorical genius, his 
sentiments on this subject correspond very well with those of 
his scholar Aristotle, and of the Peripatetics. The shadows of 
Plato may very well represent the species and phantasms 
of the Peripatetic school, and the ideas and impressions of 
modern philosophers." 

Reid's account of the Platonic theory of perception is utterly 
wrong. Plato's simile of the cave he completely misappre- 
hends. By his cave, images, and shadows, this philosopher 
intended only to illustrate the great principle of his philoso- 
phy, that the sensible or ectypal world, — the world phsenome- 
nal, transitory, ever becoming but never being (del yiyvofxevov, 
u7jd87iors oV), stands to the noetic or archetypal world, — the 
world substantial, permanent (o^i^roog oV), in the same relation of 
comparative unreality, in which the shadows or the images of 
sensible existences themselves stand to the objects of which 
they are the dim and distant adumbrations. 

But not only is Peid wrong in regard to the meaning of the 
cave, he is curiously wrong in regard to Plato's doctrine, — at 
least, of vision. For so far was Plato from holding that we 
only perceive in consequence of the representations of objects 
being thrown upon the percipient mind, — he, on the contrary, 
maintained, in the Timceiis, that, in vision, a percipient power 
of the sensible soul sallies out towards the object, the images of 
which it carries back into the eye ; — an opinion, by the way, 
held likewise by Empedocles, Alexander of Aphrodisias, [and 
many others]. 

The Aristotelic doctrine, ■— The account which Peid gives of 
the Aristotelic doctrine is, likewise, very erroneous. " Aristotle 
seems to have thought that the soul consists of two parts, or 
rather, that we have two souls, — the animal and the rational ; 
or, as he calls them, the soul and the intellect. To th^jirsU be- 
long the senses, memory and imagination ; to the last^ judgment 



284 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION-. 

opinion, belief, and reasoning. The first we have in common 
with brute animals ; the last is peculiar to man. The animal 
soul he held to be a certain form of the body, which is insepar- 
able from it, and perishes at death. To this soul the senses 
belong ; and he defines a sense to be that which is capable of 
receiving the sensible forms or species of objects, without any 
of the matter of them ; as wax receives the form of the seal 
without any of the matter of it. The forms of sound, of color, 
of taste, and of other sensible qualities, are, in a manner, re- 
ceived by the senses. It seems to be a necessary consequence 
of Aristotle's doctrine, that bodies are constantly sending forth, 
in all directions, as many different kinds of forms without mat- 
ter as they have different sensible qualities ; for the forms of 
color must enter by the eye, the forms of sound by the ear, — 
and so of the other senses. This, accordingly, was main- 
tained by the followers of Aristotle, though not, as far as I 
know, expressly mentioned by himself. They disputed concern- 
ing the nature of those forms of species, whether they were 
real beings or nonentities ; and some held them to be of an in- 
termediate nature between the two. The whole doctrine of the 
Peripatetics and schoolmen concerning forms, substantial and 
accidental, and concerning the transmission of sensible species 
from objects of sense to the mind, if it be at all intelligible, is 
so far above my comprehension that I should perhaps do it 
injustice by entering into it more minutely." 

In regard to the statement of the Peripatetic doctrine of 
species, I must observe, that it is correct only as applied to the 
doctrine taught as the Aristotelic in the Schools of the middle 
ages ; and even in these Schools, there was a large party who 
not only themselves disavowed the whole doctrine of species, but 
maintained that it received no countenance from the authority 
of Aristotle. This opinion is correct ; and I could easily prove 
to you, had we time, that there is nothing in the metaphorical 
expressions of sidog and rvTtog, which, on one or two occasions, 
he cursorily uses, to warrant the attribution to him of the doc- 
trine of his disciples. This is even expressly maintained by 
several of his Greek commentators, — as the Aphrodisian, 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 285 

Michael Ephesius, and Philoponus. In fact, Aristotle appears 
to have held the same doctrine in regard to perception as Reid 
himself. lie was a Natural Kealist. 

Reid gives no account of the famous doctrine of Perception 
held by Epicurus, and which that philosopher had borrowed 
from Democritus, — namely, that the eidcola, djtooooiai, imag- 
ines, simulacra rerum, etc., are like pellicles continually flying 
off from objects ; and that these material likenesses, diffusing 
themselves everywhere in the air, are propagated to the per- 
ceptive organs. In the words of Lucretius, — 

" Qii93, quasi membranai, summo de cortice rerum 
DereptaB, volitant iiltro citroqae per auras." 

The Cartesian doctrine. — Reid's statement of the Cartesian 
doctrine of perception is not exempt from serious error. After 
giving a long, and not very accurate, account of the philosophy 
of Descartes in general, he proceeds : — 

" There are two points, in particular, wherein I cannot recon- 
cile him to himself: the first, regarding the place of the ideas 
or images of external objects, which are the immediate objects 
of perception ; the second, with regard to the veracity of our 
external senses. 

" As to the first, he sometimes places the ideas of material 
objects in the brain, not only when they are perceived, but when 
they are remembered or imagined ; and this has always been 
held to be the Cartesian doctrine ; yet he sometimes says, that 
we are not to conceive the images or traces in the brain to be 
perceived, as if there were eyes in the brain ; these traces are 
only occasions on which, by the laws of the union of soul and 
body, ideas are excited in the mind ; and, therefore, it is not 
necessary that there should be an exact resemblance between 
the traces and the things represented by them, any more than 
that words or signs should be exactly like the things signified 
by them. 

" These two opinions, I think, cannot be reconciled. For, if 
the images or traces in the brain are perceived, they must be 
the objects of perception, and not the occasions of it only. On 



286 VARIOUS THEOKIES OF PERCEPTION. 

the other hand^ if they are only the occasions of our perceiving, 
they are not perceived at aU. Descartes seems to have hesi- 
tated between the two opinions, or to have passed from the one 
to the other." 

Reid's principal error consists in charging Descartes with 
vacillation and inconsistency, and in possibly attributing to him 
the opinion that the representative object, of which the mind is 
conscious ' in perception, is something material, — something in 
the brain. This arose from his ignorance of the fundamental 
principle of the Cartesian doctrine. By those not possessed of 
the key to the Cartesian theory, there are many passages in the 
writings of its author which, taken by themselves, might natu- 
rally be construed to import, that Descartes supposed the mind 
to be conscious of certain motions in the brain, to which, as well 
as to the modifications of the intellect itself, he applies the terms 
image and idea, Reid, who did not understand the Cartesian 
philosophy as a system, was puzzled by these superficial ambi- 
guities. Not aware that the cardinal point of that system is, 
that mind and body, as essentially opposed, are naturally to each 
other as zero ; and that their mutual intercourse can, therefore, 
only be supernaturally maintained by the concourse of the 
Deity, Reid was led into the error of attributing, by possibility, 
to Descartes, the opinion that the soul was immediately cogni- 
zant of material images in the brain. But in the Cartesian 
theory, mind is only conscious of itself; the affections of body 
may, by the law of union, be proximately the occasions, but can 
never constitute the immediate objects, of knowledge. Reid, 
however, supposing that nothing could obtain the name of image^ 
which did not represent a prototype, or the name of idea, which 
was not an object of thought, wholly misinterpreted Descartes, , 
who applies, abusively indeed, these terms to the occasion of 
perception, that is, the motion in the sensorium, unknown in 
itself and representing nothing ; as well as to the object of 
thought, that is, th^ representation of which we are conscious 
in the mind itself. In the Leibnitzo-Wolfian system, two ele- 
ments, both also denominated ideas, are in like manner accu- 
rately to be contradistinguished in the process of perception. 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. ^ 287 

The idea in the brain, and the idea in the mind, are, to Des- 
cartes, precisely what the " material idea " and the " sensual 
idea " are to the Wolfians. In both philosophies, the two ideas 
are harmonic modifications, correlative and coexistent ; but in 
neither is the organic aiFection or sen-^orial idea an object of 
consciousness. It is merely the unknown and arbitrary condi- 
tion of the mental representation ; and in the hypothesis, both 
of Assistance and of Preestablished Harmony, the presence of 
the one idea implies the concomitance of the other, only by vir- 
tue of the hyperphysical determination. 

Reid confused in his account of Arnauld, — In treating of 
Arnauld's opinion, we see the confusion arising from Reid's not 
distinctly apprehending the two forms of the representative hy- 
pothesis. Arnauld held, and was the first of the philosophers 
noticed by E-eid or Brown who clearly held, the simpler of these 
forms. Now, in his statement of Arnauld's doctrine, Heid was 
perplexed, — was puzzled. As opposing the philosophers who 
maintained the more complex doctrine of representation, Ar- 
nauld seemed to Keid to coincide in opinion with himself; but 
yet, though he never rightly understood the simpler doctrine of 
representation, he still feels that Arnauld did not hold with him 
an intuitive perception. Dr. Brown is, therefore, wrong in as- 
serting that Reid admits Arnauld' s opinion on perception and 
his own to be identical. 

It cannot be maintained, that Reid admits a philosopher to 
hold an t)pinion convertible with his own, whom he states to 
"profess the doctrine, universally received, that we perceive 
not material things immediately, — that it is their ideas that are 
the immediate objects of our thoughts, — and that it is in the 
idea of every thing that we perceive its properties." This fun- 
damental contrast being established, we may safely allow that 
the original misconception, which caused Reid to overlook the 
difference of our intuitive and representative faculties, caused 
him, likewise, to believe that Arnauld had attempted to unite 
two contradictory theories of perception. Not aware that it wag 
possible to maintain a doctrine of perception in which the idea 
was not really distinguished from its cognition, and yet to hold 



288 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

that the mind had no immediate knowledo-e of external thinjrs*. 
Reid supposes, in the first place, that Arnauld, in rejecting the 
hypothesis of ideas, as representative existences really distinct 
from the contemplative act of perception, coincided with him in 
\^iewing the material reality as the immediate object of that 
act; and, in the second, that Arnauld again deserted this 
opinion, when, with the philosophers, he maintained that the 
idea, or act of the mind representing the external reality, and 
not the external reality itself, was the immediate object of per- 
ception. Arnauld's theory is one and indivisible ; and, as such, 
no part of it is identical with Reid's. Reid's confusion, here as 
elsewhere, is explained by the circumstance, that he had never 
speculatively conceived the possibility of the simplest modifica- 
tion of the representative hypothesis. He saw no medium 
between rejecting ideas as something different from thought, 
and his own doctrine of an immediate knowledge of the mate- 
rial object. Neither does Arnauld, as Reid supposes, ever assert 
against Malebranche, " that we perceive external things imme- 
diately," that is, in themselves : maintaining that all our per- 
ceptions are modifications essentially representative, he every- 
where avows, that he denies ideas only as existences distinct 
from the act itself of perception. 

Reid was, therefore, wrong, and did Arnauld less than jus- 
tice, in viewing his theory " as a weak attempt to reconcile two 
inconsistent doctrines : " he was wrong, and did Arnauld more 
than justice, in supposing that one of these doctrines was not 
incompatible with his own. The detection, however, of this 
error only tends to manifest more clearly, how just, even when 
under its influence, was Reid's appreciation of the contrast siib- 
Bisting between his own and Arnauld's opinion, considered as a 
whole ; and exposes more glaringly Brown's general misconcep- 
tion of Reid's philosophy, and his present gross misrepresenta- 
tion, in afiirming that the doctrines of the two philosophers were 
identical, and by Reid admitted to be the same. 

Reid on Locke, — Locke is the philosopher next in order, and 
it is principally against Reid's statement of the Lockian doc- 
trine of ideas, that the most vociferous clamor has been raised, 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION". 289 

by those who deny that the cruder form of the representative 
hypothesis was the one prevalent among philosophers, after the 
decline of the Scholastic theor.y of species ; and who do not see 
that, though Reid's refutation, from the cause I have already 
noticed, was ostensibly directed only against that cruder form, 
it was virtually and in effect levelled against the doctrine of a 
representative perception altogether. Even supposing that 
Kcid was wrong in attributing this particular modification of 
the representative hypothesis to Locke, and the philosophers in 
general, — this would be a trivial error, provided it can be 
shown that he was opposed to every* doctrine of perception, 
except that founded on the fact of the duality of consciousness. 
But let us consider whether Reid be really in error when he 
attributes to Locke the opinion in question. Both Priestley 
and Brown strenuously contend against Reid's interpretation of 
the doctrine of Locke, who states it as that philosopher's opin- 
ion, "that images of external objects were conveyed to the 
brain ; but whether he thought with [Dr. Clarke] and New- 
ton, that the images in the brain are perceived by the mind, 
there present, or that they are imprinted on the mind itself, is 
not so evident." 

This, Brown, Priestley, and others pronounce a flagrant mis- 
representation. Not only does Brown maintain that Locke 
never conceived the idea to be substantially different from the 
mind, as a material image of the brain ; but that he never sup- 
posed it to have an existence apart from the mental energy of 
which it is the object. Locke, he asserts, like Arnauld, consid- 
ered the idea perceived and the percipient act to constitute the 
same indivisible modification of the conscious mind. This we 
shall consider. 

In his language, Locke is, of all philosophers, the most figura- 
tive, ambiguous, vacillating, various, and even contradictory ; as 
has been noticed by Reid and Stewart, and Brown himself, — 
indeed, we believe, by every philosopher who has had occasion 
to animadvert on Locke. The opinions of such a writer are 
not, therefore, to be assumed from isolated and casual expres- 
sions, which themselves require to be interpreted on the general 
25 



290 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

analogy of the system ; and yet tliis is the only ground on which 
Dr. Brown attempts to establish his conclusions. Thus, on the 
matter under discussion, though really distinguishing, Locke 
verbally confounds, the objects of sense and of pure intellect, 
the operation and its object, the objects immediate and mediate, 
the object and its relations, the images of fancy and the notions 
of the understanding. Consciousness is converted with Per- 
ception ; Perception with Idea ; Idea wdth the object of Per- 
ception, and with Notion, Conception, Phantasm, Representation, 
Sense, Meaning, etc. Now, his language identifying ideas and 
perceptions, appears conformable to a disciple of Arnauld ; and 
now it proclaims him a follower of Democritus and Digby, — 
explaining ideas by mechanical impulse and the propagation of 
material particles from the external reality to the brain. In 
one passage, the idea would seem an organic affection, — the 
mere occasion of a spiritual representation ; in another, a rep- 
resentative image, in the brain itself. In employing thus indif- 
ferently the language of every hypothesis, may we not suspect 
that he was anxious to be made responsible for none ? One, 
however, he has formally rejected, and that is the very opinion 
attributed to him by -Dr. Brown, — that the idea, or object of 
consciousness » in perception, is only a modijfication of the mind 
itself. 

I do not deny that Locke occasionally employs expressions, 
which, in a wa*iter of more considerate language, would imply 
the identity of ideas with the act of knowledge ; and, under the 
circumstances, I should have considered suspense more rational 
than a dogmatic confidence in any conclusion, did not the follow- 
ing passage, which hats never, I believe, been noticed, afford a 
positive and explicit contradiction of Dr. Brown's interpreta- 
tion. It is from Locke's Examination of Malehranche's Opin- 
ion^ which, as subsequent to the publication of the Essay^ must 
be held decisive in relation to the doctrines of that work. At 
the same time, the statement is articulate and precise, and pos- 
sesses all the authority, of one cautiously emitted in the course 
of a polemical discussion. Malebranche coincided with Arnauld, 
Eleid, and recent philosophers in general, and consequently with 



VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 2ljl 

Locke, as interpreted hj Brown, to the extent of supposing that 
sensation proper is nothing but a state or niodification of the 
mind itself; and Locke had thus the 0[)portunity of expressing^ 
in regard to this opinion, his agreement or dissent. An acqui- 
escence in the doctrine, that the secondary (qualities, of which 
we are conscious in sensation, are merely mental states, by no 
means involves an admission that the primary qualities, of which 
we are conscious in perception, are nothing more. Malebranche, 
for example, affirms the one and denies the other. But if Locke 
be found to ridicule, as he does, even the opinion which merely 
reduces the secondary qualities to mental states, a fortiori, and 
this on the principle of his own philosophy, he must be held to 
reject the doctrine, which would reduce not only the non -resem- 
bling sensations of the secondary, but even the resembling, and 
consequently extended, ideas of the primary, qualities of matter 
to modifications of the immaterial unextended mind. In these 
circumstances, the following passage is superfluously conclusive 
against Brown ; and equally so whether we coincide or not in 
all the doctrines it involves. " But to examine their doctrine of 
ynodijication a little further. — Different sentiments (sensations) 
are dilferent modifications of the mind. The mind, or soul, 
thai perceives, is one immaterial indivisible substance. Now I 
see the white and black on this paper ; I hear one singing in 
the next room ; I feel the w^armth of the fire I sit by ; and I taste 
an apple I am eating, and all this at the same time. Now, I 
ask, take modification for what you please, can the same unex- 
tended indivisible substance have different, nay, inconsistent and 
opposite (as these of white and black must be) modifications at 
the same time ? Or must we suppose distinct parts in an indi- 
visible substance, one for black, another for white, and another 
for red ideas, and so of the rest of those infinite sensations, 
which we have in sorts and degrees ; all which we can dis- 
tinctly perceive, and so are distinct ideas, some whereof are 
opposite, as heat and cold, which yet a man may fe^l at the 
same time ? I was ignorant before, how sensaf ion was per+brmed 
in us : this they call an explanation of it ! Must I say ni>AV I 
understand it better ? If this be to cure one^s ignorance, it is a 



21/2 TAEIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTIOl^. 

very slight disease, and the charm of two or three insignificant 
words will at any time remove it ; prohatum est,^^ 

But if it be thus evident that Locke held neither the third 
form of representation, that lent to him by Brown, nor even the 
second ; it follows that Reid did him any thing but injustice, in 
supposing him to maintain that ideas are objects, either in the 
brain, or in the mind itself. Even the more material of these 
alternatives has been the one generally attributed to him by his 
critics, and the one adopted from him by his disciples. Nor is 
this to be deemed an opinion too monstrous to be entertained by 
so enlightened a philosopher. It was the common opinion of 
the age ; the opinion, in particular, held by the most illustrious 
I philosophers, his countrymen and contemporaries, — by Newton, 
Clarke, Willis, Hook, etc. 

Held and Brown on Hohhes, — To adduce Hobbes as an in- 
stance of Reid's misrepresentation of the " common doctrine of 
ideas," betrays, on the part of Brown, a total misapprehension 
of the conditions of the question ; or he forgets that Hobbes 
was a materialist. The doctrine of representation, under all its 
modifications, is properly subordinate to the doctrine of a spir- 
itual principle of thought ; and on the supposition, all but uni- 
versally admitted among philosophers, that the relation of 
knowledge implied the analogy of existence, it was mainly 
devised to explain the possibility of a knowledge by an imma- 
terial subject, of an existence so disproportioned to its nature, 
as the qualities of a material object. Contending, that an im- 
mediate cognition of the accidents of matter, infers an essential 
identity of matter and mind. Brown himself admits, that the 
hypothesis of representation belongs exclusively to the doctrine 
of dualism ; whilst Reid, assailing the hypothesis of ideas only 
as subverting the reality of matter, could hardly regard it as 
parcel of that scheme, which acknowledges the reality of noth- 
ing else. But though Hobbes cannot be adduced as a competent 
witness against Reid, he is, however, valid evidence against 
Brown. Hobbes, though a materialist, admitted no knowledge 
of an external world. Like his friend Sorbiere, he was a kind 
ctf Material Idealist. According to him, we know nothing of 



ARmtJ» THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 2V3 

the qualities or existence of any outward reality. All that we 
know is the " seeming," the " apparition," the " aspect," the 
" phaenomenon," the " phantasm," within ourselves ; and this 
subjective object, of which we are conscious, and which is con- 
sciousness itself, is nothing more than the " agitation " of our 
internal organism, determined by the unknown "motions," 
which are supposed, in like manner, to constitute the world 
v/ithout. Perception he reduces to Sensation. Memory and 
Imagination are faculties specifically identical with Sense, dif- 
fering from it simply in the degree of their vivacity ; and this 
difference of intensity, with Hobbes as with Hume, is the only 
discrimination between our dreaming and our waking thoughts. 
— A, doctrine of perception identical with Reid's ! 

Le Clerc and Crousaz, — Dr. Brown at length proceeds to 
consummate his victory, by "that most decisive evidence, found 
not in treatises read only by a few, but in the popular elemen- 
tary works of science of the time, the general text-books of 
schools and colleges." He quotes however, only two, — the 
Pneumatology of Le Clerc, and the Logic of Crousaz. 

" Le Clerc," says Dr. Brown, " in his chapter on the nature 
of ideas, gives the history of the opinions of philosophers on this 
subject, and states among them the very doctrine which is most 
forcibly and accurately opposed to the ideal system of percep- 
tion. [" Others suppose," says Le Clerc, " that an idea and the 
perception of an idea are the same thing, though they differ in 
their relations. The idea, as they think, is properly referred to 
the object which the mind considers, while the perception is re- 
ferred to the mind itself which perceives ; but this twofold rela- 
tion belongs to one and the same modification of mind. Tliere- 
fore, according to these philosophers, there are not, properly 
speaking, any ideas distinct from the mind."] What is it, I 
may ask, which Dr. Reid considers himself as having added to 
this very philosophical view of perception? and if he added 
nothing, it is surely too much to ascribe to him the merit of 
detecting errors, the counter-statement of which had long formed 
a part of the elementary works of the schools." 

In the first place, Dr. Reid certainly " added " nothing " to 
25* 



294 VARIOUS THEORIES OF PERCEPTION. 

this very philosophical view of perception," but he exploded 
it altogether. In the second, it is false either that this doc- 
trine of perception " had long formed part of the elementary 
works of the schools," or that Le Clerc affords any countenance, 
to this assertion. On the contrary, it is virtually stated by him 
to be the novel paradox of a single philosopher ; nay, it is 
already, as such a singular opinion, discussed and referred to 
its author by Reid himself. Had Dr. Brown proceeded from 
the tenth paragraph, which he quotes, to the fourteenth, which 
he could not have read, he would have found that the passage 
extracted, so far from containing the statement of an old and 
familiar dogma in the schools, was neither more nor less than a 
statement of the contemporary hypothesis of Antony Ar^auld, 
and of Antony Arnauld alone. In the third place, from the 
mode in which he cites Le Clerc, his silence to the contrary, 
and the general tenor of his statement, Dr. Brown would lead 
us to believe that Le Clerc himself coincides in " this very phi- 
losophical view of perception." So far, however, from coin- 
ciding with Arnauld, he pronounces his opinion to be false ; 
controverts it upon very solid grounds ; and in delivering his 
own doctrine touching ideas, though sufficiently cautious in tell- 
ing us what they are, he ha& no hesitation in assuring us, 
among other things which they cannot be, that they are noc 
modifications or essential states of mind. [" The idea," says 
Le Clerc, " is not a modification, nor is it the essence, of the 
mind ; for, besides the fact that there is a great difference be- 
tween the perception of an idea and a sensation, what is there 
in the mind which is like a mountain, or many other ideas of 
this sort?"] Such is the judgment of that authority to which 
Dr. Brown appealed as the most decisive. 

In Crousaz, Dr. Brown has actually succeeded in finding one 
example (he might have found twenty) of a philosopher, before 
Reid, holding the same theory of id(^,as with Arnauld and him- 
J^.lf. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — PERCEPTION. -- WAS REID A 
NATURAL REALIST ? 

In the last chapter, I concluded the review of Reid's Histori- 
cal Account of the previous Opinions on Perception. In enter- 
ing upon tliis review, I proposed the following ends. In the 
first place, to afford you, not certainly a complete, but a compe- 
tent insight into the various theories on this subject ; and this 
was sufficiently accomplished by limiting myself to the opinions 
touched upon by Reid. My aim, in the second place, was to 
correct some errors of Reid arising from, and illustrative of, 
those fundamental misconceptions which have infected his 
whole doctrine of the cognitive faculties with confusion and 
error ; and, in the third place, I had in view to vindicate Reid 
from the attack made on him by Brown. Perception, as mat- 
ter of psychological consideration, is of the very highest impor- 
tance in philosophy ; as the doctrine in regard to the object 
and operation of this faculty affords the immediate data for 
determining the great question touching the existence or non- 
existence of an external world ; and there is hardly a problem 
of any moment in the whole compass of philosophy, of which 
it does not mediately affect the solution. The doctrine of per- 
ception may thus be viewed as a cardinal point of philosophy 
It is also exclusively in relation to this faculty, that Reid must 
claim his great, his distinguishing glory, as a philosopher ; and 
of this no one was more conscious than himself. "The merit,'* 
he says, in a letter to Dr. James Gregory, " of what you are 
pleased to call my philosophy, lies, I think, chiefly in having 
called in question the common theory of ideas or images oi 

(295) 



296 WAS EEID A NATURAL REALIST? 

things in the mind being the only objects of thought — a theory 
founded on natural prejudices, and so universally received, as 
to be interwoven with the structure of language." " I think/' 
he adds, " there is hardly any thing that can be called science 
in the philosophy of the mind, which does not follow with ease 
from the detection of this prejudice." 

To enable you provisionally to understand Reid's errors, I 
showed you how, holding himself the doctrine of an intuitive or 
immediate perception of external things, he did not see that the' 
counter doctrine of a mediate or representative perception ad- 
mitted of a subdivision into two forms, — a simpler and a more 
complex. The simpler, that the immediate or representative 
object is a mere modification of the percipient mind, — the 
more complex, that this representative object is something dif- 
ferent both from the reality and from the mind. His ignorance 
of these two forms has caused him great confusion, and intro- 
duced much subordinate error into his system, as he has often 
confounded the simpler form of the representative hypothesis 
with the doctrine of an intuitive perception ; but if he be 
allowed to have held the essential doctrine of an immediate 
perception, his errors in regard to the various forms of the rep- 
resentative hypothesis must be viewed as accidental, and com- 
paratively unimportant. 

Brown's errors, on the contrary, are vital. In the first place, 
he is fundamentally wrong in holding, in the teeth of conscious- 
ness, that the mind is incapable of an immediate knowledge of 
aught but its own modes. He adopts the simpler form of a 
representative perception. In the second place, he is wrong in 
reversing Reid's whole doctrine, by attributing to him the same 
opinion, on this point, which he himself maintains. In the third 
place, he is wrong in thinking that Reid only attacked the more 
complex, and not the more dangerous, form of the representa- 
tive hypothesis, and did not attack the hypothesis of representa- 
tion altogether. In the fourth place, he is wrong in supposing 
that modern philosophers, in general, held the simpler for^a of 
the representative hypothesis, and that Reid was, ther* Tore, 
mistaken in supposing them to maintain the'' more comph . , — 



WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 297 

mistaken, in fact, in supposing them to maintain a doctrine dif- 
ferent from his own. 

Was Reid himself a Natural Realist f — But a more impor- 
tant historical question remains, and one which even more 
affects the reputations of Reid and Brown. It is this : — Did 
Heid, as Brown supposes, hold, not the doctrine of Natural 
Kealism, but the finer hypothesis of a Representative Percep- 
tion? 

If Reid did hold this doctrine, I admit at once that Brown is 
right. Reid accomplished nothing; his philosophy is a blun- 
der, and his whole polemic against the philosophers, too insig- 
nificant for refutation or comment. The one form of repre- 
sentation may be somewhat simpler and more philosophical 
than the other ; but the substitution of the former for the latter 
is hardly deserving of notice ; and of all conceivable hallucina- 
tions, the very greatest would be that of Reid, in arrogating to 
himself the merit of thus subverting the foundation of •Idealism 
and Scepticism, and of philosophers at large in acknowledging 
the pretension. The idealist and sceptic can establish their 
conclusions indifferently on either form of a representative per- 
ception ; nay, the simpler form affords a securer, as the more 
philosophical, foundation. The idealism of Fichte is accord- 
ingly a system far more firmly founded than the idealism of 
Berkeley ; and as the simpler involves a contradiction of con- 
sciousness more extensive and direct, so it furnishes to the 
sceptic a longer and more powerful lever. 

2^he distinction of Intuitive and Representative Knowledge. — 
Before, however, discussing this question, it may be proper here 
to consider more particularly a matter of which we have 
hitherto treated only by the way, — I mean the distinction of 
Immediate or Intuitive, in contrast to Mediate or Representar 
tive, Knowledge. This is a distmction of the most important 
kind, and it is one which has, however, been almost wholly- 
overlooked by philosophers. This oversight is less to be won- 
dered at in those who allowed no immediate knowledge to the 
mind, except of its proper modes ; in their systems the distinc- 
tion, tliough it still subsisted, had Httle relevancy or effect, as it 



298 INTUITIVE AND KEPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 

did not discriminate the faculty by which we are aware of the 
presence of external objects, from that by which, when absent, 
these are imaged to the mind. In neither case, on this doc- 
trine, are we conscious or immediately cognizant of the external 
reality, but only of the mental mode through which it is repre- 
sented. But it is more astonishing that those who maintain 
that the mind is immediately percipient of external things, 
should not have signalized this distinction ; as on it is estab- 
lished the essential difference of Perception as a faculty of 
Intuitive, Imagination as a faculty of Representative, knowledge. 
But the marvel is still more enhanced when we find that Reid 
and Stewart — (if to them this opinion really belongs), so far 
from distinguishing Perception as an immediate and intuitive, 
from Imagination (and under Imagination, be it observed, I 
include both the Conception and the Memory of these philoso- 
phers) as a mediate or representative, faculty, — in language 
make tliem both equally immediate. You will recollect the 
refutation I formerly gave you of Reid's self-contradictory asser- 
tion, that in Memory we are immediately cognizant of that 
which, as past, is not now existent, and cannot, therefore, be 
known in itself; and that, in Imagination, we are immediately 
cognizant of that which is distant, or of that which is not, and 
probably never was, in being. Here the term immediate is 
either absurd, as contradictory ; or it is applied only, in a cer- 
tain special meaning, to designate the simpler form of repre- 
sentation, in which nothing is supposed to intervene between 
the mental cognition and the external reality ; in contrast to the 
more complex, in which the representative or vicarious image 
is supposed to be something different from both. Thus^ in con- 
sequence of this distinction not only not having been traced by 
Reid as the discriminative principle of his doctrine, but having 
been even overlaid, obscured, and perplexed, his whole philoso- 
phy has been involved in haze and confusion ; insomuch that a 
philosopher of Brown's acuteness could (as we have seen and 
shall see) actually so far misconceive, as even to reverse its 
import. The distinction is, therefore, one which, on every ac- 
count, merits your most sedulous attention ; but though of 



I^^TUrnVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 299 

primary importance, it is fortunately not of any considerable 
difficulty. 

This disUnction stated and illustrated. — As every cognitive 
act which, in one relation, is a mediate or representative, is, in 
another, an immediate or intuitive, knowledge, let us take a 
particular instance of such an act ; as hereby we shall at once 
obtai;! an example of the one kind of knowledge, and of the 
other, and these also in proximate contrast to each other. I 
call up an image of the High Church [a Cathedral edifice in 
Edinburgh], Now, in this act, what do I know immediately or 
intuitively ; what mediately or by representation ? It is mani- 
fest that I am conscious, or immediately cognizant, of all that is 
known as an act or modification of my mind, and, consequently, 
of the modification or act which constitutes the mental image 
of the Cathedral. But as, in this operation, it is evident, that I 
am conscious, or immediately cognizant, of the Cathedral as 
imaged in my mind ; so it is equally manifest, that I am not 
conscious or immediately cognizant of the Cathedral as existing. 
But still I am said to know it; it is even called the object of 
my thought. I can, however, only know it mediately^ — only 
through the mental image which represents it to consciousness ; 
and it can only be styled the object of thought, inasmuch as a 
reference to it is necessarily involved in the act of representa- 
tion. From this example is manifest, what in general is meant 
by immediate or intuitive, — what, by mediate or representative 
knowledge. All philosophers are at one in regard to the imme- 
diate knowledge of our jyresent mental modijications ; and all 
are equally agreed, if we remove some verbal ambiguities, that 
we are only mediately cognizant of all past thoughts, objects, 
and events, and of every external reality not at the moment 
within the sphere of sense. There is but one point on which 
thty are now at variance, — namely, whether the thinking sub- 
ject is competent to an intuitive knowledge of aught but the 
modifications of the mental self; in other words, whether we 
can have any immediate perception of external things. Waiv- 
ing, however, this question for the moment, let us articulately 
state what are the different conditions involved in the two kinds 
of knowledge. 



300 INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 

In the Jirst place, considered as acts. — An act of immediate 
knowledge is simple ; there is nothing beyond the mere con- 
sciousness, by that which know^s, of that which is known. Here 
consciousness is simply contemplative. On the contrary, an act 
of mediate knowledge is complex ; for the mind is not only con- 
scious of the act as its own modification, but of this modification 
as an object representatiye of, or relative to, an object beyond 
the sphere of consciousness. In this act, consciousness is both 
representative and contemplative of the representation. 

In the second place, in relation to their objects, — In an im- 
mediate cognition, the object is single, and the term unequivocal. 
Here, the object in consciousness and the object in existence are 
the same ; in the language of the Schools, the esse intentionale 
or representativum coincides with the esse entitativum. In a 
mediate cognition, on the other hand, the object is twofold, and 
the term equivocal ; the object known and representing being 
different from the object unknown, except as represented. The 
immediate object, or object known in this act, should be called 
the subjective object, or subject-object, in contradistinction to the 
mediate or unknown object, which might be discriminated as the 
object-object. A slight acquaintance with philosophical writings 
will show you how necessary suck a distinction is ; the want of 
it has caused Reid to puzzle himself, and Kant to perplex his 
readers. 

In the third place, considered as judgments (for you will rec- 
ollect that every act of Consciousness involves an affirmation). 
— In an intuitive act, the object known is known as actually 
existing ; the cognition, therefore, is assertory, inasmuch as the 
reality of that, its object, is given unconditionally as a fact. In 
a representative act, on the contrary, the represented object is 
unknown as actually existing ; the cognition, therefore, is prob- 
lematical, the reality of the object represented being only given 
as a possibility, on the hypothesis of the object representing. 

In the fourth place, in relation to their sphere. — Representa- 
tive knowledge is exclusively subjective, for its immediate object 
is a mere mental modification, and its mediate object is unknown, 
except in .so far as that modification represents it. Int^ii!i>^« 



INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 301 

knowledge, on the other hand, if consciousness is to be credited, 
is either subjective or objective, for its single object may be 
either a pliaenomenon of the ego or of the non-ego, — either 
mental or material. 

In \hejifth place, considered in reference to their perfection, 
— An intuitive cognition, as an act, is complete and absolute, as 
irrespective of aught beyond the dominion of consciousness ; 
whereas, a representative cognition, as an act, is incomplete, 
being relative to, and vicarious of, an existence beyond the 
sphere of' actual knowledge. The object likewise of the former 
is complete, being at once known and real; whereas, in the 
latter, the object known is ideal, the real object unknown. In 
their relations to each other, immediate knowledge is complete, 
as self-sufficient ; mediate knowledge, on the contrary, is incom- 
plete, as dependent on the other for its realization. 

[For the sake of distinctness, I shall state [over again and 
more fully] the different momenta of the distinction in separate 
Propositions ; and these for more convenient reference I shall 
number. 

1. — A thing is known immediately or proximately, when we 
cognize it in itself; mediately or remotely, when we cognize it 
in or through something numerically different from itself Im- 
mediate cognition, thus the kno\vledge of a thing in itself, in- 
volves the fact of its existence ; mediate cognition, thus the 
knowledge of a thing in or through something not itself, involves 
only the possibility of its existence. 

2. — An immediate cognition, inasmuch as the thing known 
is itself presented to observation, may be called a presentative ; 
and inasmuch as the thing presented is, as it were, viewed by the 
mind face to face, may be called an intuitive cognition. — A 
mediate cognition, inasmuch as the thing known is held up or 
mirrored to the mind in a vicarious representation, may be called 
a representative cognition. 

3. — A thijig known is called an object of knowledge. 

4. — In a presentative or immediate cognition there is one sole 
object ; the thing (immediately) known and the thing existin|; 
being one and tlie same. — In a representative or mediate co^ 

26 



302 INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 

iiiLion there may be discriminated two objects ; the thing (imme- 
diately) known and the thing existing being numerically dif- 
ferent. 

5. — A thing known in itself is the (sole) presentative or 
intuitive object of knowledge, or the (sole) object of a 'presenta- 
tive or intuitive knowledge, — A thing known in and through 
something else is the primary^ mediate^ remote^ real, existent, or 
represented, object of (mediate) knowledge, objectum quod ; and 
a thing through which something else is known is the secondary, 
immediate, proximate, ideal, vicarious, or representafive, object 
of (mediate) knowledge, — objectum quo or per quod. The for- 
mer may likewise be styled objectum entitativum. 

6. — If the representative object be supposed (according to 
one theory) a mode of the conscious mind or self, it may be 
distinguished as Egoistical ; if it be supposed (according to 
another) something numerically different from the conscious 
mind or self, it may be distinguished as Non-Egoistical, The 
former theory supposes two things numerically different: 1°, 
the object represented, — 2°, the representing and cognizant 
mind : — the latter, three ; 1°, the object represented, — 2°, the 
object representing, — 3°, the cognizant mind. Compared 
merely with each other, the former, as simpler, may, by contrast 
to the latter, be considered, but still inaccurately, as an imme- 
diate cognition. The latter of these, as limited in its application 
to certain faculties, and now in fact wholly exploded, may be 
thrown out of account. 

7. — External Perception, or Perception simply, is the faculty 
presentative or intuitive of the phenomena of the Non-Ego or 

^ The distinction of proximate and remote object is sometimes applied to 
perception in a different manner. Thus Color (the white of the wall for 
instance) is said to be i\\Q proximate object of vision, because it is seen im- 
mediately; the colored thing (the wall itself for instance) is said to be 
the remote object of vision, because it is seen only through the mediation of 
the color. This however is inaccurate. For the wall, that in which the 
color inheres, however mediately known, is never mediately seen. It is 
not indeed an object of perception at all ; it is only the subject of such an 
object, and is reached by a cognitive process, different from the merely 
perceptive. 



INTUITIVE AND REPRESENTATIVE KNOWLEDGE. 303 

matter — if there be any intuitive apprehension allowed of* the 
Non-p]go at all. Internal Perception or Self-consciousness is 
the faculty presentative or intuitive of the phenomena of the 
Ego or mind. 

8. — Imagination or Phantasy, in its most extensive meaning, 
is the faculty representative of the phenomena both of the ex- 
ternal and internal worlds. 

9. — A representation considered as an object is logically, not 
really, different from a representation considered as an act 
Here, object and act are merely the same indivisible mode of 
mind viewed in two different relations. Considered by refer- 
ence to a (mediate) object represented, it is a representative 
object ; considered by reference to the mind representing and 
contemplating the representation, it is a representative act. A 
representative object being viewed as posterior in the order of 
nature, but not of time, to the representative act, is viewed as a 
product; and the representative act being viewed as prior in 
the order of nature, though not of time, to the representative 
object, is viewed as a producing process. The same may be 
said of Imao:e and Imao-ination. 

10. — A thing to be known in itself must be known as act- 
ually existing, and it cannot be known as actually existing unless 
it be known as existing in its When and its Where, But the 
When and Where of an object are immediately cognizable by 
the subject, only if the When be now (i, e, at the same moment 
with the cognitive act), and the Where be here (^. e. within the 
sphere of the cognitive faculty) ; therefore a presentative or 
intuitive knowledge is only competent of an object present to 
the mind, both in time and in space. 

1 1 . — E converso — whatever is known, but not as actually 
existing now and here, is known not in itself, as the presentative 
object of an intuitive, but only as the remote object of a repre- 
sentative, cognition. 

12. — A representative object, considered irrespectively of 
what it represents, and simply as a mode of the conscious sub- 
ject, is an intuitive or presentative object. For it is known in 
itself, as a mental mode, actually existing now and here. 



J04 FN" TUITIVE A^TD REPRESENTATIVE KiN'OWLEDGE. 

13. — The ac t^ual modl^csitions — the present acts and affections 
of the £lgo, are objects of immediate cognition, as themselves 
objects of consciousness. The past and possible modifications 
of the Ego are objects of mediate cognition, as represented tc 
consciousness in a present or actual modification. 

14. — As not now present ih time^ an immediate knowledge 
of the past is impossible. The past is only immediately cogni- 
zable in and through a present modification relative to, and 
representative of, it as having been. To speak of an immediate 
knowledge of the past involves a contradiction in adjecto. For 
to know the past immediately, it must be known in itself ; — 
and to be known in itself, it must be known as now existing. 
But the past is just a negation of the now existent : its very 
notion, therefore, excludes the possibility of its being imme- 
diately known. So much for Memory, or Recollective Imagi- 
nation. 

15.- — In like manner, supposing that a knowledge of the 
future were competent, this can only be conceived possible in 
and through a now present representation ; that is, only as a 
mediate cognition. For, as not yet existent, the future cannot 
be known in itself, or as actually existent. As not here present, 
an immediate knowledge of an object distant in space is like- 
wise impossible. For, as beyond the sphere of our organs and 
faculties, it cannot be known by them in itself; it can only, 
therefore, if known at all, be known through something diflferent 
from itself, — that is mediately, in a reproductive or a construc- 
tive act of imagination. 

16. — A possible object — an ens rationis — is a mere fabri- 
cation of the mind itself; it exists only ideally in and through 
an act of imagination, and has only a logical existence, apart 
from that act with which it is really identical. It is therefore 
an intuitive object in itself; but in so far as, not involving a 
contradiction, it is conceived as prefiguring something which may 
possibly exist some-where and some-when — this something, 
too, being constructed out of elements which had been previ- 
ously given in Presentation — it is Representative.] — JDiss. 
iupp, to Held. 



WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 305 

Such are the two kinds of knowledge, which it is necessary to 
distinguish, and such are the principal contrasts they present. 
I said a little ago that this distinction, so far from being signal- 
ized, had been almost abolished by philosophers. I ought, how 
ever, to have excepted certain of the Schoolmen, by whom this 
discrimination was not only taken, but admirably applied ; and 
though I did not originally borrow it from them, I was happy tc 
find that what I had thought out for myself, was confirmed by 
the authority of these subtle spirits. The names given in the 
Schools to the immediate and mediate cognitions were intuitive 
and abstractive^ meaning by the latter term not merely what we, 
with them, call abstract knowledge, but also the representations 
of concrete objects in the imagination or memory. 

Order of the discussion. — Having now prepared you for the 
question concerning Reid, I shall proceed to its consideration ; 
and shall, in the first place, state the arguments that may be 
adduced in favor of the opinion, that Reid did not assert a doc- 
trine of Natural Realism, — did not accept the fact of the dual- 
ity of consciousness in its genuine integrity, but only deluded 
himself with the belief that he was originating a new or an impor- 
tant opinion, by the adoption of the simpler form of Represen- 
tation ; and, in the second place, state the arguments that may 
be alleged in support of the opposite conclusion, that his doctrine 
is in truth the simple doctrine of Natural Realism. 

Brown's interpretation of Reid^s doctrine refuted. — But be- 
fore proceeding to state the grounds on which alone I conceive 
any presumption can be founded, that Reid is not a Natural 
Realist, but, like Brown, a Cosmothetic Idealist, I shall state 
and refute the only attempt made by Brown to support this, his 
interpretation of Reid's fundamental doctrine. Brown's inter- 
pretation of Reid seems, in fact, not grounded on any thing 
which he found in Reid, but simply on his own assumption of 
what Reid's opinion must be. For, marvellous as it may sound, 
Brown hardly seems to have contemplated the possibility of an 
immediate knowledge of any thing beyond the sphere of self; ' 
and I should say, without qualification, that he had never at all 
imagined this possibility, were it not for the single attempt h^ 

26* 



306 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 

makes at a proof of the. impossibility of Reid holding such an 
opinion, when on one occasion Reid's language seems for a mo- 
ment to have actually suggested to him the question : Might 
that philosopher not perhaps regard the external object as iden- 
tical with the immediate object in perception? 

Now the sum and substance of [Brown's] reasoning is, as 
far as I can comprehend it, to the following effect : — To assert 
an immediate perception of material qualities, is to assert an 
identity of matter and mind; for that which is immediately 
known must be the same in nature as that which immediately 
knows. 

But Reid was not a materialist, was a sturdy spiritualist; 
therefore he could not really maintain an immediate perception 
of the qualities of matter. 

The whole validity of this argument consists in the truth of 
the major proposition (for the minor proposition, that Reid was 
not a materialist, is certain), — To assert an immediate percep- 
tion of material qualities, is to assert an identity of matter and 
mind ; for that which is immediately known must be the same 
in essence as that which immediately knows. 

Now, in support of the proposition which constitutes the 
foundation of his argument, Brown offers no proof. He as- 
sumes it as an axiom. But so far from his being entitled to do 
so, by its being too evident to fear denial, it is, on the contrary, 
not only not obtrusively true, but, when examined, precisely 
the reverse of truth. 

In the Ji7^st place, if we appeal to the only possible arbiter in 
the case, — the authority of consciousness, — we find that con- 
sciousness gives as an ultimate fact, in the unity of knowledge, 
the duality of existence ; that is, it assures us that, in the act of 
perception, the percipient subject is at once conscious of some- 
thing which it distinguishes as a modification of self, and of 
something which it distinguishes as a modification of not-self. 
Reid, therefore, as a dualist, and a dualist founding not on the 
hypotheses of philosophers, but on the data of consciousness, 
might safely maintain the fact of our immediate perception of 
external objects, without fear of involving himself in an asser- 
t?on of the identity of mind and matter. 



WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 307 

But, in the second place, if Reid did not maintain this imme- 
diacy of perception, and assert the veracity of consciousness, he 
would at once be forced to admit one or other of the unitarian 
conclusions of materialism or idealism. Our knowledge of 
mind and matter, as substances, is merely relative ; they are 
known to us only in their qualities ; and we can justify the pos- 
tulation of two different substances, exclusively on the supposi- 
tion of the incompatibility of the double series of ph^enomena 
to coinhere in one. Is this supposition disproved ? — The pre- 
sumption against dualism is again decisive. Entities are not to 
be multiplied without necessity ; a plurality of principles is not 
to be assumed, where the phaenomena can be explained by one. 
In Brown's theory of perception, he abolishes the incompati- 
bility of the two series ; and yet his argument, as a dualist, for 
an immaterial principle of thought, proceeds on the ground that 
this incompatibility subsists. This philosopher denies us an 
immediate knowledge of aught beyond the accidents of mind. 
The accidents which we refer to body, as known to us, are only 
states or modifications of the percipient subject itself; in other 
words, the qualities we call material^ are known by us to exist, 
only as they are known by us to inhere in the same substance 
as the qualities we denominate mental. There is an apparent 
antithesis, but a real identity. On this doctrine, the hypothesis 
of a double principle, losing its necessity, becomes philosophi- 
cally absurd ; on the law of parcimony, a psychological unita- 
rianism is established. To the argument, that the qualities of 
the object, are so repugnant to the qualities of the subject, of 
perception, that they cannot be supposed the accidents of the 
same substance, the unitarian — whether materialist, ideahst, or 
absolutist — has only to reply : — that so far from the attri- 
butes of the"bbject being exclusive of the attributes of the sub- 
ject, in this act, the hypothetical duahst himself estabhshes, as the 
fundamental axiom of his philosophy of mind, that the object 
known is universally identical with the subject knowing. The 
materialist may now derive the subject from the object, the 
idealist derive the object from the subject, the absolutist subli- 
mate both into indifference, nay, the nihilist subvert the sub- 



308 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 

stantial reality of either ; — the hypothetical realist, so far from 
being able to resist the conclusion of any, in fact accords their 
assumptive premises to all. 

So far, therefore, is Brown's argument from inferring the con* 
elusion, that Reid could not have maintained our immediate 
perception of external objects, that not only is its inference ex- 
pressly denied by Reid, but if properly applied, it would prove 
the very converse of what Brown employs it to establish. 

Second reason for supposing that Reid was not a Natural 
Realist, — But there is a ground considerably stronger than 
that on which Brown has attempted to evince the identity of 
Reid's opinion on perception with his own. This ground is his 
equalizing Perception and Imagination, (Under Imagination, 
you will again observe that I include Reid's Conception and 
Memory.) Other philosophers brought perception into unison 
with imagination, by making perception a faculty of mediate 
knowledge. Reid, on the contrary, has brought imagination 
into unison wicli perception, by calling imagination a faculty of 
immediate knowledge. Now, as it is manifest that, in an act of 
imagination, the object-object is and can possibly be known 
only, mediately, through a representation, it follows that we 
must perforce adopt one of two alternatives ; — we may either 
suppose that Reid means by immediate knowledge only that 
simpler form of representation from which the idea or tertium 
quid^ intermediate between the external reahty and the con- 
scious mind, is thrown out, or that, in his extreme horror of the 
hypothesis of ideas, he has altogether overlooked the fundamen- 
tal distinction of mediate and immediate cognition, by which 
the faculties of perception and imagination are discriminated ; 
and that thus his very anxiety to separate more widely his own 
doctrine of intuition from the representative hypothesis of the 
philosophers, has, in fact, caused him almost inextricably .to 
confound the two opinions. 

Positive evidence that Reid held Natural Realism, — That 
this latter alternative is greatly the more probable, I shall now 
proceed to show you ; and in doing this, I beg you to keep in 
mind the necessary contrasts by which an immediate or intui- 



WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 30f* 

tive is opposed to a mediate or representative cognition. The> 
question to be solved is, — Does Reid hold that in perception 
we immediately know the external reality, in its own qualities, 
as existing ; or only mediately know them, through a represen- 
tative modification of the mind itself ? In the following proof, 
I select only a few out of a great number of passages which 
might be adduced from the writings of Reid, in support of the 
same conclusions. I am, however, confident that they are suffi- 
cient ; and quotations longer or more numerous would tend 
rather to obscure than to illustrate. 

The conditions of Immediate Knowledge^ applied to Reid's 
statements, — In the first place, knowledge and existence are 
then only convertible when the reality is known in itself; for 
then only can we say, that it is known because it exists, and 
exists since it is known. And this constitutes an immediate or 
intuitive cognition, rigorously so called. Nor did Reid contem- 
plate any other. " It seems admitted," he says, " as a first 
principle, by the learned and the unlearned, that what is really 
perceived must exist, and that to perceive what does not exist 
is impossible. So far the unlearned man and the philosopher 
agree." 

In. the second place, philosophers agree, that the idea or rep- 
resentative object^ in their theory^ is, in the strictest sense, imme- 
diately perceived. And so Reid understands them. " I per- 
ceive not, says the Cartesian, the external object itself (so far 
he agrees with the Peripatetic, and differs from the unlearned 
man) ; but I perceive an image, or form, or idea, in my own 
mind, or in my brain. I am certain of the existence of the 
idea, because I immediately perceive it." 

In the third place, philosophers concur in acknowledging 
that mankind at large believe that the external reality itself con- 
stitutes the immediate and only object of perception. So also 
Reid : " On the same principle, the unlearned man says, I per- 
ceive the external object, and I perceive it to exist." — " The 
vulgar, undoubtedly, beUeve that it is the external object which 
we immediately perceive, and not a representative image of it 
only. It is for this reason that they look upon it as perfect 



310 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 

lunacy to. call in question tlie existence of external objects." — • 
"The vulgar are firmly persuaded that the very identical 
objects which they perceive, continue to exist when they do not 
perceive them : and are no less firmly persuaded, that when ten 
men look at the sun or the moon they all see the same indi- 
vidual object." Speaking of Berkeley, — " The vulgar opinion 
he reduces to this, that the very things which we perceive by 
our senses do really exist. This he grants." — " It is, there- 
fore, acknowledged by this philosopher to be a natural instinct 
or prepossession, a universal and primary opinion of all men, 
that the objects which we immediately perceive by our senses 
are not images in our minds, but external objects, and that their 
existence is independent of us and our perception." 

In the fourth place, all philosophers agree that consciousness 
has an immediate knowledge^ and affords an absolute certainty 
of the reality^ of its object. Reid, as we have seen, limits the 
name of consciousness to self-consciousness, that is, to the im- 
mediate knowledge we possess of the modifications of self; 
whereas, he makes perception the faculty by which we are 
immediately cognizant of the qualities of the not-self. 

In these circumstances, if Keid either, 1°, Maintain, that his 
immediate perception of external things is convertible, with 
their reality ; or, 2°, Assert, that, in his doctrine of perception, 
the external reality stands to the percipient mind face to face, 
in the same immediacy of relation which the idea holds in the 
representative theory of the philosophers ; or, 3°, Declare the 
identity of his own opinion with the vulgar belief, as thus ex- 
pounded by himself and the philosophers ; or, 4°, Declare, that 
his Perception affords us equal evidence of the existence of 
external phaenomena, as his Consciousness affords us of the 
existence of internal ; — in all and each of these suppositions, 
he would unambiguously declare himself a Natural Realist, and 
evince that his doctrine of perception is one not of a mediate 
or representative, but of an immediate or intuitive knowledge. 
Ajid he does all four. 

The first and second, — " We have before examined the 
reasons given by philosophers to prove that ideas, and not ex- 



WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 311 

ternal objects, are the immediate objects of perception We 
shall only here observe, that if external objects be perceived 
immediately " [and he had just before asserted for the hun- 
dredth time that they were so perceived], " we have the same 
reason to believe their existence, as philosophers have to believe 
the existence of ideas, while they hold them to be the imme- 
diate objects of perception." 

77i€ third, — Speaking of the perception of the external 
world, — " We have here a remarkable conflict between two 
contradictory opinions, wherein all mankind are engaged. On 
the one side, stand all the vulgar, who are unpractised in phil- 
osophical researches, and guided by the uncorrupted primary 
instincts of nature. On the other side, stand all the philoso- 
phers, ancient and modern ; every man, without exception, who 
reflects. In this division, to my great humiliation, I find my- 
self classed with the vulgar." 

The fourth, — " Philosophers sometimes say that we perceive 
ideas, — sometimes that we are conscious of them. I can have 
no doubt of the existence of any thing which I either perceive, 
or of which I am conscious ; but I cannot find that I either per- 
ceive ideas or am conscious of them." 

General conclusion and caution, — On these grounds, there- 
fore, I am confident that Reid's doctrine of Perception must be 
pronounced a doctrine of Intuition, and not of Kepresentation ; 
and though, as I have shown you, there are certainly some 
plausible arguments which might be alleged in support of the 
opposite conclusion; still, these are greatly overbalanced by 
stronger positive proofs, and by the general analogy of his phi- 
losophy. And here I would impress upon you an important 
lesson. That Keid, a distinguished philosopher, and even the 
founder of an illustrious school, could be so greatly miscon- 
ceived, as that an eminent disciple of that school itself should 
actually reverse the iundamental principle of his doctrine, — 
this may excite your wonder, but it ought not to move you to 
disparage either the talent of the philosopher misconceived, or 
of the philosopher misconceiving. It ought, however, to prove 
to you the permanent importance, not only in speculation, but 



•312 WAS REID A NATURAL REALIST? 

in practice, of precise thinking. You ought never to rest con- 
tent, so long as there is aught vague or indefinite in your rea- 
sonings, — so long as you have not analyzed every notion into 
its elements, and excluded the possibility of all lurking ambigu- 
ity in your expressions. One great, perhaps the one greatest 
advantage, resulting from the cultivation of Philosophy, is the 
habit it induces of vigorous thought ; that is, of allowing nothing 
to pass without a searching examination, either in your own 
speculations, or in those of others. We may never, perhaps, 
arrive at truth, but we can always avoid self-contradiction. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE PRESENT ATIVE FACULTY. — THE DISTINCTION OF PER- 
CEPTION PROPER FROM SENSATION PROPER. — PRIMARY 
AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

Of the doctrine of an intuitive perception of external ob- 
jects, — which, as a fact of consciousness, ought to be uncon- 
ditionally admitted, — Reid has the merit, in these latter times, 
of being the first champion. I have already noticed that, among 
the Scholastic philosophers, there were some who maintained the 
same doctrine, and with far greater clearness and comprehen- 
sion than Reid. These opinions are, however, even at this 
moment, I may. say, wholly unknown ; and it would be ridicu- 
lous to suppose that their speculations had exerted any influence, 
direct or indirect, upon a thinker so imperfectly acquainted with 
what had been done by previous philosophers, as Reid. Since 
the Revival of Letters, I have met with only two, anterior to 
Reid, whose doctrine on the present question -coincided with his. 
One of these [John Sergeant] may, indeed, be discounted ; for 
he has stated his opinions in so paradoxical a manner, that his 
authority is hardly worthy of notice. The other, [Peter Poire t,] 
who flourished about a century before Reid, has, on the con- 
trary, stated the doctrine of an intuitive, and refuted the coun- 
ter hypothesis of a representative, perception, with a brevity, 
perspicuity, and precision far superior to the Scottish philoso- 
pher. Both of these authors, I may say, are at present wholly 
unknown. 

Having concluded the argument by which I endeavored to 
satisfy you that Reid's doctrine is Natural Realism, I should 
now proceed to show that Natural Realism is a more philosoph- 
27 (313) 



814 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 

ical doctrine than Hypothetical Realism. Before, however, 
taking up the subject, I think it better to dispose of certain 
subordinate matters, with which ' it is proper to have some pre- 
paratory acquaintance. 

Of these the first is the distinction of Perception Proper from 
Sensation Proper. 

Use of the term Perception previously to Reid. — I have had 
occasion to mention, that the word Perception is, in the language 
of philosophers previous to R-eid, used in a very extensive sig 
nification. By Descartes, Malebranche, Locke, Leibnitz, and 
others, it is employed in a sense almost as unexclusive as Con- 
sciousness in its widest signification. By Reid, this word was 
limited to our faculty acquisitive of knowledge, and to that 
branch of this faculty whereby, through the senses, we obtain a 
knowledge of the external world. But his limitation did not 
stop here. In the act of external perception, he distinguished 
two elements, to which he gave the names of Perception and 
Sensation. He ought, perhaps, to have called these perception 
proper and sensation proper^ when employed in his special 
meaning ; for, in the language of other philosophers, sensation 
was a term which included his Perception, and perception a 
term comprehensive of what he called Sensation. 

Reid's account of Perception, — There is a great want of 
precision in Reid's account of Perception and Sensation. Of 
Perception he says : " If, therefore, we attend to that act of 
our mind, which we call the perception of an external object 
of sense, we shall find in it these three things. First. Some 
conception or notion of the object perceived. Secondly, A 
strong and irresistible conviction and belief of its present exist- 
ence ; and. Thirdly, That this conviction and belief are immedi- 
ate, and not the effect of reasoning. 

" First, it is impossible to perceive an object without having 
some notion or conception of what we perceive. We may in- 
deed conceive an object which we do not perceive ; but when 
we perceive the object, we must have some conception of it at 
the same time ; and we have commonly a more clear and steady 
notion of the object while we perceive it, than we have from 



PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 315 

memory or imagination, when it is not perceived. Yet, even in 
perception, the notion which our senses give of the object may 
be more or less clear, more or less distinct in all possible de- 
grees." 

Now here you will observe that the " having a notion or con- 
ception," by which he explains the act of perception, might at 
first lead us to conclude that he held, as Brown supposes, the 
doctrine of a representative perception ; for notion and concep- 
tion are generally used by philosophers for a representation or 
mediate knowledge of a thing. But though Reid cannot escape 
censure for ambiguity and vagueness, it appears, from the anal- 
ogy of his writings, that by notion or conception he meant 
nothing more than knowledge or cognition. 

Reid's account, of Sensation. — Sensation he thus describes : 
" Almost all our perceptions have corresponding sensations, 
which constantly accompany them, and, on that account, are 
very apt to be confounded with them. Neither ought we to 
expect that the sensation, and its corresponding perception, 
should be distinguished in common language, because the pur- 
poses of common life do not require it. Language is made to 
serve the purposes of ordinary conversation ; and we have no 
reason to expect that it should make distinctions that are not of 
common use. Hence it happens that a quality perceived, and 
the sensation corresponding to that perception, often go under 
the same name. 

"This makes the names of most of our sensations ambigu- 
ous, and this ambiguity hath very much perplexed the philoso- 
phers. It will be necessary to give some instances, to illustrate 
the distinction between our sensations and the objects of per- 
ception. 

" When I smell a rose, there is in this operation both sensa- 
tion and perception. The agreeable odor I feel, considered by 
itself, without relation to any external object, is merely a sensa- 
tion. It affects the mind in a certain way ; and this affection 
of the mind may be conceived, without a thought of the rose 
or any other object. This sensation can be nothing else than it 
is felt to be. Its very essence consists in being felt ; and when 



316 PERCEPTION AND SENSATIOI^. 

it is not felt, it is not. There is no difference bet ween the 
sensation and the feeling of it; they are one and the same 
thing. It is for this reason, that we before observed, that in 
sensation, there is no object distinct from that act of mind by 
which it is felt ; and this holds true with regard to all sensations. 

" Let us next attend to the perception which we have in 
smelling a rose. Perception has always an external object; 
and the object of my perception, in this case, is that quality in 
the rose which I discern by the sense of smell. Observing that 
the agreeable sensation is raised when the rose is near, and 
ceases when it is removed, I am led, by my nature, to conclude 
some quality to be in the rose which is the cause of this sensa- 
tion. This quality in the rose is the object perceived ; and that 
act of the mind, by which I have the conviction and belief of 
this quality, is what in this case I call perception." 

By perception, Eeid, therefore, means the objective hiowledge 
we have of an external reality, through the senses ; by sensa- 
tion, the subjective feeling of pleasure or pain, with which the 
organic operation of sense is accompanied. This distinction of 
the objective from the subjective element in the act is impor- 
tant. Reid is not, however, the author of this distinction. He 
himself notices of Malebranche, that "he distinguished more 
accurately than any philosopher had done before, the objects 
which we perceive from the sensations in our own minds, which, 
by the laws of nature, always accompany the perception of the 
object. As in many things, so particularly in this, he has great 
merit ; for this, I apprehend, is a key that opens the way to a 
right understanding both of our external senses, and of other 
powers of the mind." I may notice that Malebranche's distinc- 
tion is into Idee, corresponding to Reid's Perception, and Senti- 
ment, corresponding to his Sensation ; and this distinction is as 
precisely marked in Malebranche as in Reid. Subsequently to 
Malebranche, the distinction became even common ; and th^re 
is no reason for Mr. Stewart being struck when he found it in 
Crousaz and Hutcheson. 

The nature of Perception and Sensation illustrated, — Before 
proceeding to state to you the great law which regulates the 



TERCEiPTION AND SENSATION. 817 

mutual relation of these phaenomena, — a law which has been 
wholly overlooked by our psychologists, — it is proper to say a 
few words illustrative of the nature of the pha3nomena them- 
selves. 

The opposition of Perception and Sensation is true, but it is 
not a statement adequate to the generality of the contrast. Per- 
ception is only a special kind of Knowledge, and Sensation only 
a special kind of Feeling ; and Knowledge and Feeling, you will 
recollect, are two out of the three great classes, into which we 
primarily divided the phgenomena of mind. Conation was the 
third. Now, as Perception is only a special mode of Knowl- 
edge, and Sensation only a special mode of Feeling, so the 
contrast of Perception and Sensation is only the special mani- 
festation of a contrast, which universally divides the generic 
phsenomena themselves. It ought, therefore, in the first place, 
to have been noticed, that the generic phsenomena of Knowledge 
and Feeling are always found coexistent, and yet always dis- 
tinct; and the opposition of Perception and Sensation should 
have been stated as an obtrusive, but still only a particular 
example of the general law. But not only is the distinction of 
Perception and Sensation not generalized, — not referred to its 
category, by our psychologists ; it is not concisely and precisely 
stated. A Cognition is objective, that is, our consciousness is then 
relative to something different from the present state of the mind 
itself; a Feeling, on the contrary, is subjective, that is, our con- 
sciousness is exclusively limited to the pleasure or pain expe- 
rienced by the thinking subject. Cognition and feeling are 
always coexistent. The purest act of knowledge is always 
colored by some feeling of pleasure or pain ; for no energy is 
absolutely indifferent, and the grossest feeling exists only as it 
is known in consciousness. This being the case of cognition and 
feeling in general, the same is true of perception and sensation 
in particular. Perception proper is the consciousness, through 
the senses, of the qualities of an object known as different from 
self; Sensation proper is the consciousness of the subjective 
affection of pleasure or pain, which accompanies that act of 
knowledge. Perception is thus the objective element in the 

27=* 



318 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 

complex state, — the element of cognition; Sensation is the 
subjective element, — the element of feeling.* 

^ [A word as to the various meanings of the terms here prominent — 
Perception, Sensation, Sense. 

i. — Perception (Perceptio, Wahrnehmung) has different significations; 
but under all and each of these, the term has a common ambiguity, denot- 
ing as it may, either 1^ the perceiving Faculty, or 2° the Perceiving Act, 
or 3° the Object perceived. Of these, the only ambiguity of importance is 
the last ; and to relieve it, I would propose the employment, in this rela- 
tion, of Percept, leaving Perception to designate both the Faculty and its 
Act; for these it is rarely necessary to distinguish, as what is applicable to 
the one is usually applicable to the other. 

But to the significations of the term, as applied to different faculties, acts, 
and objects ; of which there are in all four : — 

1. Perception, in its primary philosophical signification, as in the mouths 
of Cicero and Quintilian, is vaguely equivalent to Comprehension, Notion, 
or Cognition in general. 

2. From this first meaning it was easily deflected to a second, in which 
it corresponds to an apprehension, a becoming aware o/^ in a word, a conscious- 
ness. In this meaning, though long thus previously employed in the 
Schools, it was brought more prominently and distinctively forward in the 
writings of Descartes. 

Under this second meaning, it is proper to say a word in regard to a 
special employment of the term. The Leibnitzio-Wolfians distinguish 
three acts in the process of representative cognition: — 1° the act of repre- 
senting a (mediate) object to the mind; 2° the representation, or, to speak 
more properly, representamen, itself as an (immediate or vicarious) object 
exhibited to the mind ; 3° the act by which the mind is conscious, immediately 
of the representative object, and, through it, mediately of the remote object 
represented. They called the first Perception ; the last Apperception; the 
second Idea — sensual, to wit ; for what they styled the material Idea was 
only an organic motion propagated to the brain, which, on the doctrine of 
the Preestablished Harmony, is, in sensitive cognition, the arbitrary con- 
comitant of the former, and, of course, beyond the sphere of consciousness 
or apperception. 

3. In its third signification. Perception is limited to the apprehensions of 
Sense alone. This limitation was first formally imposed upon the word by 
Reid, for no very cogent reason besides convenience; and thereafter by 
Kant. Kant, again, was not altogether consistent; for he employs ^Per- 
ception ' in the second meaning, for the consciousness of any mental presen- 
tation, and thus in a sense corresponding to the Apperception of the Leib- 
nitzians ; while its vernacular, synonym, ' Wahrnehmung ' he defines in 
conformity with the third, as the consciousness of an empirical intuition. 



PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 319 

Perception and Sensation in their reciprocal relation. — The 
most remarkable defect, however, in the present doctrine upon 
this point, is the ignorance of our psychologists in regard to the 
law by which the phaenomena of Cognition and Feeling, — of 
Perception and Sensation, are governed, in their reciprocal re- 
lation. This law is simple and universal ; and, once enounced. 

Imposed by such authorities, this is now the accredited signification of these 
terms, in the recent philosophies of Germany, Britain, France, &c. 

4. But under this third meaning, it is again, since tlie time and through 
the authority of Keid, frequently employed in a still more restricted accep- 
tation, namely, as Perception (proper) in contrast to Sensation (proper). 
The import of these terms, as used by Reid and other philosophers on the 
one hand, and by myself on the other, is explained in the text. 

ii. — Sensation (Sensatio; Sentiment; Empfindung) has various significa- 
tions; and in all of these, like Perception, Conception, Imagination, and 
other analogous terms in the philosophy of mind, it is ambiguously ap- 
plied ;^1°, for a Faculty — 2°, for its Act — ,3°, for its Object. Here 
there is no available term, like Percept, Concept, etc., whereby to discrim- 
inate the last. 

There are two principal meanings in which this term has bieen em- 
ployed. 

1. Like the Greek cesthesis, it was long and generally used to comprehend 
the process of sensitive apprehension, both in its subjective and its objective rela- 
tions. 

2. As opposed to Idea, Perception, etc., it was limited, first in the Carte- 
sian school, and thereafter in that of Held, to the subjective phasis of our 
sensitive cognitions ; that is, to our consciousness of the affections of our ani- 
mated organism, — or on the Neo-Platonic, Cartesian, and Leibnitzian hy- 
potheses, to the affections of the mind corresponding to, but not caused by, the 
unknown mutations of the body. Under this restriction. Sensation may, both 
in French and English, be employed to designate our corporeal or lower 
feelings, in opposition to Sentiment, as a term for our higher, that is, our 
intellectual and moral, feelings, 

iii. — Sense (Sensus; Sens; Sinn) is employed in a looser and in a 
stricter application. 

Under the former head, it has two applications ; — 1°, a psychological, as 
a popular t>erm' for Intelligence : 2°, a logical, as a synonym for Meaning. 

Under the latter head, Sense is employed ambiguously; — 1*^, for the 
Faculty of sensitive apprehension ; 2°, for its Act ; 3°, for its Organ. 

In this relation. Sense has been distinguished into External and Inter- 
nal ; but under the second term, in so many vague and various meanings, 
that I cannot here either explain or enumerate them.] — Di'is. supp. to Reid. 



320 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 

its proof is found in every mental manifestation. It is this : 
Knowledge and Feeling^ — Perception and Sensation^ though 
always coexistent, are always in the inverse ratio of each other. 
That these two elements are always found in coexistence, as it 
is an old and a notorious truth, it is not requisite for me to 
prove. But that these elements are always found to coexist in 
an inverse proportion, — in "support of this universal fact, it 
will be requisite to adduce proof and illustration. 

In doing this I shall, however, confine myself to the relation 
of Perception and Sensation. These afford the best examples 
of the generic relation of Knowledge and Feeling ; and we must 
not now turn aside from the special faculty with which we are 
engaged. 

The first proof I shall take from a comparison of the several 
senses ; and it will be found that, precisely as a sense has more 
of the one element, it has less of the other. Laying Touch aside 
for the moment, as this requires a special explanation, the other 
four Senses divide themselves into two classes, according as 
Perception, the objective element, or Sensation, the subjective 
element, predominates. The two in which the former element 
prevails, are Sight and Hearing ; the two in which the latter, 
are Taste and Smell. _^ 

Now, here, it will be at once admitted, that Sight, at the same 
instant, presents to us a greater number and a greater variety 
of objects and qualities, than any other of the senses. In thi^ 
Sense, therefore. Perception, — the objective element, is at its 
maximum. But Sensation, - — the subjective element, is here at 
its minimum ; for, in the eye, we experience less organic pleas- 
ure or pain from the impressions of its appropriate objects 
(colors), than we do in any other sense. 

Next to Sight, Hearing afibrds us, in the shortest interval, 
the greatest variety and multitude of cognitions ; and as sight 
divides space almost to infinity, through color, soliearing does 
the same to time, through sound. Hearing is, however, much 
less extensive in its sphere of Knowledge or Pea^eption than 
sight ; but in the same proportion is its capacity of Feeling or 
Sensation more intensive. We have greater pleasure and 



PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 321 

greater pain from single sounds than from single colors ; and, 
in like manner, concords and discords, in the one sense, affect 
us more agreeably oi* disagreeably, than any modifications of 
light in the other.^ 

In Taste and Smell, the degree of Sensation, that is, of pleas- 
ure or pain, is great in proportion as the Perception, that is, the 
information they afford, is small. In all these senses, therefore, 

— Sight, Hearing, Taste, Smell, it will be admitted that the 
principle holds good. 

The sense of Touch, or Feeling, strictly so called, I have 
reserved, as this requires a word of comment. Some philoso- 
phers include under this name all our sensitive perceptions, not 
obtained through some of the four special organs of sense, that 
is, sight, hearing, taste, smell ; others, again, divide the sense into 
several. To us, at present, this difference is of no interest : for it. 
is sufficient for us to know, that in those parts of the body where 
Sensation predominates. Perception is feeble ; and in those 
where Perception is lively. Sensation is obtuse. In the finger 
points, tactile perception is at its height ; but there is hardly 
another part of the body in which sensation is not more acute. 
Touch, or Feeling strictly so called, if viewed as a single sense, 
belongs, therefore, to both classes, — the objective and subjective. 
But it is more correct, as we shall see, to regard it as a plurality 
of senses, in which case Touch, properly so called, having a prin- 
cipal organ in the finger points, will belong to the first class, — 
the class of objective senses, — the perceptions, — that class in 
which Perception proper predominates. 

This law governs also the several impressions of the same sense, 

— The analogy, then, which we have thus seen to hold good in 
the several senses in relation to each other, prevails likewise 
among the several impressions of the same sense. Impressions 

=^ [In regard to the subjective and objective nature of the sensations of 
the several senses, or rather the perceptions we have through them, it may 
be observed, that what is more objective is more easily remembered; 
whereas, what is more subjective affords a much less distinct remembrance. 
Thus, what we perceive by the eye is better remembered than what we 
bear.] 



822 PEKCEPTION AND SENSATION. 

in the same sense, differ both in degree and m quality or kind. 
By impression you will observe that I mean no explanation of 
the mode by which the external reality acts upofi the sense (the 
metaphor you must disregard) , but simply the fact of the agency 
itself; Taking, then, their difference in degree, and supposing 
that the degree of the impression determines the degree of 
the sensation, it cannot certainly be said, that the minimum of 
Sensation infers the maximum of Perception ; for Perception 
always supposes a certain quantum of Sensation : but this is un- 
deniable, that, above a certain limit. Perception declines, in pro- 
portion as Sensation rises. Thus, in the sense of sight, if the 
impression be strong we are dazzled, blinded, and consciousness 
is limited to the pain or pleasure of the Sensation, in the inten- 
sity of which. Perception has been lost. 

Take now the difference, in hind, of impressions in the same 
sense. Of the senses, take again that of Sight. Sight, as will 
hereafter be shown, is cognizant of color, and, through color, of 
figure. But though figure is known only through color, a very 
imperfect cognizance of color is necessary, as is shown in the 
case (and it is not a rare one) of those individuals who have 
not the faculty of discriminating colors. These persons, who 
probably perceive only a certain difference of light and shade, 
have as clear and distinct a cognizance of figure, as others who 
enjoy the sense of sight in absolute perfection. This being un- 
derstood, you will observe, that, in the vision of color, there is 
more of Sensation ; in that of figure, more of Perception. Color 
affords our faculties of knowledge a far smaller number of dif- 
ferences and relations than figure; but, at the same time, yields 
our capacity of feeling a far more sensual enjoyment. But if 
the pleasure we derive from color be more gross and vivid, that 
from figure is more refined and permanent. It is a law of our 
nature, that the more intense a pleasure, the shorter is its dura- 
tion. The pleasures of sense are grosser and more intense than 
those of intellect ; but, while the former alternate speedily with 
disgust, with the latter we are never satiated. The same ana- 
logy holds among the senses themselves. Those in which Sen- 
sation predominates, in which pleasure is most intense, soon 



^ PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 323 

pall upon us ; whereas those in which Perception predominates, 
and which hold more immediately of intelligence, afford us a 
less exclusive but a more endurinoj o-ratification. How soon are 
we cloyed with the pleasures of the palate, compared with those 
of the eye ; and, among the objects of the former, the meats 
that please the most are soonest objects of disgust. This is too 
ijotorious in regard to taste to stand in need of proof. But it is 
no less certain in the case of vision. In painting, there is a 
pleasure derived from a vivid and harmonious coloring, and a 
pleasure from the drawing and grouping of the figures. The 
two pleasures are distinct, and even, to a certain extent, incom- 
patible. For if we attempt to combine them, the grosser and 
more obstrusive gratification, which we find in the coloring, dis- 
tracts us from the more refined and intellectual enjoyment we 
derived from the relation of figure ; while, at the same time, the 
disgust we soon experience from the one tends to render us in- 
sensible to the other. This is finely expressed by a modei^n 
Latin poet of high genius [Johannes Secundus] : — 

" Mensura rebus est sua dulcibus ; 
Ut quodque mentes suavius afficit, 
Fastidium sic triste secum 
Limite proximiore ducit." 

His learned commentator, Bosscha, has not, however, noticed 
that these are only paraphrases of a remarkable passage of 
Cicero. Cicero and Secundus have not, however, expressed 
the principle more explicitly than Shakspeare : 

" These violent delights have violent ends, 
And in their triumph die. The sweetest honey 
Is loathsome in its own deliciousness, 
And in the taste confounds the appetite. 
Therefore, love moderately ; long love doth so. 
To ^ swift arrives as tardy as too slow." 

The result of what I have now stated, therefore, is, in the 
first place, that, as philosophers have observed, there is a dis- 
tinction between Knowledge and Feeling, — Perception and 
Sensation, as between the objective and the subjective element ; 



324 PERCEPTION AND SENSATION 

and, in tlie second, that this distinction is, moreover, governed 
bj the law, — That the two elements, though each necessarily 
supposes the other, are still always in a certain inverse propor- 
tion to each other. 

Why this distinction is important. — Before leaving this sub- 
ject, I may notice that the distinction of Perception proper and 
Sensation proper, though recognized as phaenomenal by philoso- 
phers who hold the doctrine of a representative perception, rises 
into reality and importance only in the doctrine of an intuitive 
perception. In the former doctrine. Perception is supposed to 
be only apparently objective ; being, in reality, no less subjec- 
tive than Sensation proper, — the subjective element itself. 
Both are nothing more than mere modes of the ego. The 
philosophers who hold the hypothesis of a representative per- 
ception, make the difference of the two to consist only in this ; 

— that in Perception proper, there is reference to an unknown 
object, different from me ; in Sensation, there is no reference to 
aught beyond myself. Brown, on the supposition that Reid 
held that doctrine in common with himself and philosophers at 
large, states Sensation, as understood by Reid, to be " the simple 
feeling that immediately follows the action of an external body 
on any of our organs of sense, considered merely as a feeling 
of the mind ; the corresponding Perception being the reference 
of this feeling to the external body as its cause." The distinc- 
tion he allows to be a convenient one, if the nature of the com- 
plex process which it expresses be rightly understood. " The 
only question," he says, " that seems, philosophically, of impor- 
tance, with respect to it, is whether the Perception in this sense, 

— the reference of the Sensation to its external corporeal cause, 
- — implies, as Dr. Reid contends, a peculiar mental power, co- 
extensive with Sensation, to be distinguished by a peculiar name 
in the catalogue of our faculties ; or be not merely one of tlie 
results of a more general power, which is afterwards to be con- 
sidered by us, — the power of Association, — by wdiich one feel- 
ing suggests, or induces, other feelings that have formerly 
coexisted with it." 

If Brown be correct in his interpretation of Reid's general 



PERCEPTION AND SENSATION. 325 

doctrine of perception, his criticism is not only true but trite. 
In the hands of a Cosmothetic Idealist, the distinction is only 
superficial, and manifestly of no import ; and the very fact, that 
Reid laid so great stress on it, would tend to prove, independ- 
ently of what we have already alleged, that Brown's interpre- 
tation of his doctrine is erroneous. You will remark, likewise, 
that Brown (and Brown only speaks the language of all phi- 
losophers who do not allow the mind a consciousness of aught 
beyond its own states) misstates the phsenomenon, when he as- 
serts that, in perception, there is a reference from the internal 
to the external, from the known to the unknown. That this is 
not the fact, an observation of this phaenomenon will at once 
convince you. In an act of perception, I am conscious of 
something as self, and of something as not-self: — this is the 
simple fact. The philosophers, on the contrary, who will not 
accept this fact, misstate it. They say that we are there con- 
scious of nothing but a certain modification of mind ; but this 
modification involves a reference to, — in other words, a repre- 
sentation of, — something external, as its object. Now this is 
untrue. We are conscious of no reference, — of no represen- 
tation ; we believe that the object of which we are conscious is 
the object which exists. Nor could there possibly be such 
reference or representation ; for reference or representation 
supposes a knowledge already possessed of the object referred 
to or represented ; but perception is the faculty by which our 
first knowledge is acquired, and, therefore, cannot suppose a 
previous knowledge as its condition. But this I notice only by 
the way ; this matter will be regularly considered in the sequel. 
Perception a primary^ not a compound and derivative faculty, 
— I may here notice the false analysis, which has endeavored 
to take perception out of the list of our faculties, as being only 
a compound and derivative power. Perception, say Brown and 
others, supposes memory and comparison and judgment ; there- 
fore, it is not a primary faculty of mind. Nothing can be more 
erroneous than this reasoning. In the first place, I have for- 
merly shown you that consciousness supposes memory, and 
discrimination, and judgment ; and, as perception does not pre- 
28 



32 G PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

tend to be simpler than consciousness, but in fact only a modifi- 
cation of consciousness, that, therefore, the objection does not 
apply. But, in the second place, the objection is founded on a 
misapprehension of what a faculty properly is. It may be very 
true, that an act of perception cannot be realized simply and 
alone. I have often told you that the mental phaenomena are 
never simple, and that, as tissues are woven out of many threads, 
so a mental phgenomenon is made up of many acts and affec- 
tions, which we can only consider separately by abstraction, but 
can never even conceive as separately existing. In mathemat- 
ics, we consider a triangle or a square, the sides and the angles 
apart from each other, though we are unable to conceive them 
existing independently of each other. But because the angles 
and sides exist only through each other, would it be correct to 
deny their reality as distinct mathematical elements ? As in 
geometry, so is it in psychology. We admit that no faculty can 
exist itself alone ; and that it is only by viewing- the actual 
manifestations of mind in their different relations, that we are 
able by abstraction to analyze them into elements, which we 
refer to different faculties. Thus, for example, every judgment, 
every comparison, supposes two terms to be compared, and, 
therefore, supposes an act of representative, or an act of acquis- 
itive, cognition. But go back to one or other of these acts, and 
you will find that each of them supposes a judgment and a 
memory. If I represent in imagination the terms of compari- 
son, there is involved a judgment ; for the fact of their repre- 
sentation supposes the afiirmation or judgment that they are 
called up, that they now ideally exist; and this judgment is 
only possible, as a result of a comparison of the present con- 
sciousness of their existence with a past consciousness of their 
non-existence, which comparison, again, is only possible through 
an act of memory. 

The Primary and Secondary Qualities of matter, — Con- 
nected with the preceding distinction of Perception and Sensa- 
tion, is the distinction of the Primary and Secondary Quahties 
of matter. 

It would only confuse you wer^ T to attempt to determine 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 327 

how far this distinction was known to the Atomic physiologists, 
prior to Aristotle, and how far Aristotle himself was aware of 
the principle on which it proceeds. — It is enough to notice, as 
the most remarkable opinion of antiquity, that of Democritus, 
who, except the common qualities of body which are known by 
Touch, denied that the senses afforded us any information con- 
cerning the real properties of matter. Among modern philoso- 
phers, Descartes was the first who recalled attention to the dis- 
tinction. According to him, the Primary qualities differ from 
the Secondary in this, — that our knowledge of the former is 
more clear and distinct than of the latter. 

" The qualities of external objects," says Locke, " are of two 
sorts y first, Original or Primary ; such are solidity, extension, 
Inotion or rest, number, and figure. These are inseparable from 
body, and such as it constantly keeps in all its changes and 
alterations. Thus, take a grain of wheat, divide it into two 
parts ; each part has still solidity, extension, figure, mobility ; 
divide it again, and it still retains the same qualities ; and will 
do so still, though you divide it on till the parts become insen- 
sible. 

" Secondly, Secondary qualities, such as colors, smells, tastes, 
sounds, etc., which, whatever reaHty we by mistake may attrib- 
ute to them, are, in truth, nothing in the objects themselves, but 
powers to produce various sensations in us ; and depend on the 
qualities before mentioned. 

" The ideas of Primary qualities of bodies are resemblances 
of them ; and their patterns really exist in bodies themselves : 
but the ideas produced in us by Secondary qualities have no 
resemblance of them at all: and what is sweet, blue, or warm 
in the idea, is but the certain bulk, figure, and motion of the 
insensible parts in the bodies themselves, which we call so." 

Keid adopted the distinction of Descartes : he holds that 
our knowledge of the Primary qualities is clear and distinct, 
whereas our knovf ledge of the Secondary qualities is obscure. 
" Every man," he says, " capable of reflection, may easily sat- 
isfy himself, that he has a perfectly clear and distinct notion of 
extension, divisibility, figure, and motion. The solidity of a 



328 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES.. 

body means no more, but that it excludes other bodies from oc- 
cupying the same place at the same time. Hardness, softness, 
and fluidity are different degrees of cohesion in the parts of a 
body. It is fluid, when it has no sensible cohesion ; soft, when 
the cohesion is weak ; and hard, when it is strong : of the cause 
of this cohesion we are ignorant, but the thing itself we under- 
stand perfectly, being immediately informed of it by the sense 
of touch. It is evident, therefore, that of the Primary qualities 
we have a clear and distinct notion ; we know what they are, 
though we may be ignorant of the causes." But he did more ; 
he endeavored to show that this difference arises from the cir- 
cumstance, that the perception, in the case of the Primary 
qualities, is direct; in the case of the Secondary, only relative. 
This he explains : " I observe, further, that the notion we have 
of Primary qualities is direct, and not relative only. A rela- 
tive notion of a thing is, strictly speaking, no notion of the thing 
at all, but only of some relation which it bears to something- 
else. 

"Thus, gravity sometimes signifies the tendency of bodies 
towards the earth ; sometimes, it signifies the cause of that ten- 
dency ; when it means the first, I have a direct and distinct 
notion of gravity ; I see it, and feel it, and know perfectly what 
it is ; but this tendency must have a cause ; we give the same 
name to the cause; and that cause has been an object of 
thought and of speculation. Now, what notion have we of this 
cause, when we think and reason about it ? It is evident we 
think of it as an unknown cause of a known effect. This is a 
relative notion, and it must be obscure, because it gives us no 
conception of what the thing is, but of what relation it bears to 
something else. Every relation which a thing unknown bears 
to something that is known, may give a relative notion of it ; and 
there are many objects of thought, and of discourse, of which 
our faculties can give no better than a relative noticn. 

" Having premised these things to explain what is meant by 
a relative notion, it is evident, that our notion of Primary 
Qualities is not of this kind ; we know what they are, and not 
barely what relation they bear to something else. 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 329 

"It is otherwise with Secondary Qualities. If you ask me, 
what is that quahty or modification in a rose which I call its 
smell, I am at a loss what to answer directly. Upon reflection, 
I find, that I have a distinct notion of the sensation which it 
produces in my mind. But there can be nothing like to this 
sensation in the rose, because it is insentient. The quality in 
the rose is something which occasions the sensation in me ; but 
what that something is, I know not. My senses give me no 
information upon this point. The only notion, therefore, my 
senses give is this, that smell in the rose is an unknown quality 
or modification^ which is the cause or occasion of a sensation^ 
which I know well. The relation which this unknown quality 
bears to the sensation with which nature hath connected it, is 
all I learn from the sense of smelling ; but this is evidently a 
relative notion. The same reasoning will apply to every Sec- 
ondary quality." 

[The Primary Qualities of Matter or Body, noio and here^ — 
that is, in proximate relation to our organs, — are objects of 
immediate cognition to the Natural Realists, of mediate^ to the 
Cosmothetic Idealists ; the former, on the testimony of con- 
sciousness, asserting to mind the capability of intuitively per- 
ceiving what is not itself; the latter denying this capability, but 
asserting to the mind the power of representing, and truly rep- 
resenting, what it does not know. — To the Absolute Idealists, 
matter has no existence as an object of cognition, either imme- 
diate or mediate. 

The Secondary Qualities of Body, now and here, — as only 
present affections of the conscious subject, determined by an 
unknown external cause, — are, on every theory, now allowed 
to be objects of immediate cognition.] — Diss, siipp, to Reid, 

You will observe that the lists of the primary qualities given 
by Locke and Reid do not coincide. According to Locke, 
these are Solidity, Extension, Motion, Hardness, Softness, 
Roughness, Smoothness, and Fluidity. 

Stewards classification of qualities. — Mr. Stewart proposes 
another line of demarcation. " I distinguish," he says, " Exten- 
sion and Figure by the title of the Mathematical Affections of 

28=* 



330 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

matter ; restricting the phrase, Primary Qualities, to Hardness 
and Softness, Roughness and Smoothness, and other properties 
of the same description. The hne which I would draw between 
Primary and Secondary Qualities is this, that the former neces- 
sarily involve the notion of PJxtension, and consequently of 
externality or outness ; whereas the latter are only conceived as 
the unknown causes of known sensations ; and when first appre- 
hended hy the mind, do not imply the existence of any thing 
locally distinct from the subjects of its consciousness." 

The Primary Qualities reducible to two. - — All these Primary 
Qualities, including Mr. Stewart's Mathematical Affections of 
matter, may easily be reduced to two, — Extension and Solid- 
ity, Thus : Figure is a mere limitation of extension ; Hard- 
ness, Softness, Fluidity, are only Solidity variously modified, — 
only its different degrees ; while Roughness and Smoothness 
denote only the sensations connected with certain perceptions of 
Solidity.* On the other hand, in regard to Divisibility, (which 

^ [The term Solidity {to arepeov, solidum), as denoting an attribute of 
body, is a word of various significations ; and the non-determination and 
non-distinction of these have given rise to manifold error and confusion. 

First Meaning. — In its most unexclusive signification, the SoHd is that 
which Jills or occupies space. In this meaning, it is simply convertible vi^ith 
Body; and is opposed, 1°, to the unextended in all or in any of the three 
dimensions of space; and 2°, to mere extension or empty space itself. 
This we may cail Solidity simply. 

The occupation of space supposes two necessary conditions; — and each 
of these has obtained the common name of Solidity, thus constituting a 
second and a third meaning. 

Second Meaning. — What is conceived as occupying space, is necessarily 
conceived as extended in the three dimensions of space. This is the phasis of 
Solidity which the Geometer exclusively contemplates. Trinal extension 
has, accordingly, by mathematicians, been emphatically called the Solid ; 
and this first partial Solidity we may therefore distinguish as the Mathe- 
matical, or rather the Geometrical. 

Third Meaning. — On the other hand, what is conceived as occupying 
space, is necessarily conceived as wliat cannot he eliminated from space. But 
this supposes a power of resisting such elimination. This is the phasis of 
Solidity considered exclusively from the physical point of view. Accord- 
ingly, by the men of natural science, tlie impossibility of compressing a 
body from an extended to an unextended has been emphatically styled 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 331 

is proper to Reid,) and to Motion, — these can hardly be mere 
data of sense. Divisibility supposes division, and a body 

Solidity ; and this second partial solidity we may therefore distinguish as 
the Physical. The resisting force here involved has been called the Impen- 
etrahilily of matter; but most improperly and most ambiguously. It 
might more appropriately be termed its Ultimate or Absolute Incompressi- 
hility. 

In a psychological point of view — and this is that of Locke and meta- 
physicians in general — no attribute of body is Pnmary which is not neces- 
sary in thought ; that is, which is not necessarily evolved out of, as neces- 
sarily implied in, the very notion of body. And such is Solidity, in the one 
total and the two partial significations heretofore enumerated. But in its 
physical application, this term is not always limited to denote the ultimate 
incompressibility of matter. Besides that necessary attribute, it is extended, 
in common language, to express other powers of resistance in bodies, of a 
character merely contingent in reference to thought. These may be re- 
duced to the five following . 

Fourth Meaning. — The term Solid is very commonly employed to denote 
not merely the absolutely, but also the relatively, incompressible, the Dense, 
in contrast to the relatively compressible, the Kare, or Hollow. (In Latin, 
moreover, aSo//c//<s was not only employed, in this sense, to denote that a 
thing fully occupied the space comprehended within its circumference ; but 
likewise to indicate, 1°, its entireness in quantity — that it was whole or com- 
plete; and, 2°, its entireness in quality — that it was pure, uniform, homo- 
geneous. This arose from the original identity of the Latin Solidum with 
the Oscan solium or solum, and the Greek oTiov. 

Fifth Meaning. — Under the Vis Inertioe, a body is said to be Solid, i. e. 
Inert, Stable, Immovable, in proportion as it, whether in motion or at rest, 
resists, in general, a removal from the place it would otherwise occupy in 
space. , 

Sixth Meaning. — Under Gravity, a body is said to be Solid, i. e. Heavy; 
m proportion as it resists, in particular, a displacement by being lifted up. 

The two following meanings fall under Cohesion, the force with which 
matter resists the distraction' of its parts ; for a body is said in a 

Seventh Meaning, to be Solid, {. e. Hard, in contrast to Soft ; and in an 

Eighth Meaning, to be Solid, i. e. Concrete, in opposition to Fluid. 

The term Solidity thus denotes, besides the absolute and necessary prop- 
erty of occupying space, simply and in its two phases of Extension and 
Impenetrability, also the relative and contingent qualities of the Dense, the 
Inert, the Heavy, the Hard, the Concrete ; and the introduction of these 
latter, with their correlative opposites, into the list of Primary Qualities 
was facilitated by Locke's vacillating employment of the vague express'ion 
Solid, in partial designation of the former.] — Diss. supp. to Reid. 



332 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

divided supposes memory ; for if we did not remember that 
it had been one, we should not know that it is now two ; we 
could not compare its present with its former state ; and it is 
by this comparison alone that we learn the fact of division. 
As to Motion, this supposes the exercise of memory, and the 
notion of time, and, therefore, we do not owe it exclusively to 
sense. Finally, as to Number, which is peculiar to Locke, it is 
evident that this, far from being a quality of matter, is only an 
abstract notion, — the fabrication of the intellect, and not a 
datum of sense. 

Space known a priori ; Extension a posteriori. — Thus, then, 
we have reduced all pn^ary qualities to Extension and Solid- 
ity ; and we are, moreover, it would seem, beginning to see 
light, inasmuch as the Primary qualities are those in which per- 
ception is dominant^ the Secondary those in Vv^hich sensation pre- 
vails. But here we are again thrown back : for extension is 
only another name for space, and our notion of space is not 
one which we derive exclusively from sense, — not one which 
is generalized only from experience ; for it is one of our neces- 
sary notions, — in fact, a fundamental condition of thought 
itself. The analysis of Kant, independently of all that has 
been done by other philosophers, has placed this truth beyond 
the possibility of doubt, to all those who understand the mean- 
ing and conditions of the problem. For us, however, this is 
not the time to discuss the subject. But, taking it for granted 
that the notion of space is native or a priori^ and not adventi- 
tious or a posteriori^ are we not at once thrown back into 
Idealism ? For if extension itself be only a necessary mental 
mode, how can we make it a quality of external objects, known 
to us by sense ; or how can we contrast the outer world, as the 
extended, with the inner, as the unextended world ? To this 
difficulty, I see only one possible answer. It is this : — It can- 
not be denied that space, as a necessary notion, is native to (he 
mind; but does it follow, that, because there is an a priori 
space, as a form of thought, we may not also have an empirical 
knowledge of extension, as an element of existence ? The 
former, indeed, may be only the condition through which the 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 333 

latter is possible. It is true that, if we did not possess the gen- 
eral and necessary notion of space anterior to, or as the condi- 
tion of, experience, from experience we should never obtain 
more than a generalized and contingent notion of space. But 
there seems to me no reason to deny, that because we have the 
one, we may not also have the other. If this be admitted, the 
whole difficulty is solved ; and we may designate by the name 
of extension our empirical knowledge of space, and reserve the 
term space for space considered as a form or fundamental law 
of thought.^ This matter will, however, come appropriately 
to be considered, in treating of the Regulative Faculty. 

General result. — The following is the result of w^hat I think 
an accurate analysis would afford, though there are no doubt 
many difficulties to be explained. — That our knowledge of all 
the qualities of matter is merely relative. But though the quali- 
ties of matter are all known only in relation to our faculties, 
and the total or absolute cognition in perception is only mattei 
in a certain relation to mind, and mind in a certain relation tc 
matter ; still, in different perceptions, one term* of the relation 
may predominate, or the other. Where the ohjectii^e element 
vredomifiateSj — where matter is known as principal in its rela- 
tion to mind, and mind only known as subordinate in its corre- 
lation to matter, — we have Perception Proper^ rising superior 
to Sensation ; this is seen in the Primary Qualities, Where, on 
the contrary, the subjective element predominates, — where mind 
is known as principal in its relation to matter, and matter is only 
known as subordinate in its relation to mind, — we have Sensa- 
tion Proper rising superior to Perception ; and this is seen in 
the Secondary Qualities, 

The adequate illustration of this will, however, require both 
a longer, and a more abstruse, discussion, [which is here sub- 
joined from the Dissertations supplementary to PeidJ] 

[The Qualities*€f Body I divide into three classes. 

Adopting and adapting, as far as possible, the previous no- 

^ [So Causality. Causality depends, first, on the a priori necessity in the 
miuu. to think some cause ; and, second, on experience, as revealing to us 
the particular cause of any effect.] 



834 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES, 

menclature — the first of these I would denominate the class of 
Primary, or Objective, Qualities ; the second, the class of Se- 
cundO'Primary, or Suhjectivo- Objective, Qualities ; the third, the 
class of Secondary, or Subjective, Qualities. 

The general point of view from which the Qualities of Mat- 
ter are here considered is not the Physical, but the Psychologic 
cah But, under this, the ground of principle on which these 
qualities are divided and designated is, again, two-fold. There 
are, in fact, within the psychological, two special points of view ; 
that of Sense, and that of Understanding. 

The point of view chronologically prior, or first to us, is that 
of Sense. The principle of division is here the different cir- 
cumstances under which the qualities are originally and imme- 
diately apprehended. On this ground, as apprehensions or 
immediate cognitions through Sense, the Primary are distin- 
guished as objective, not subjective,* as percepts proper, not 
sensations proper ; the Secundo-primary, as objective and sub- 
jective, as 'percepts proper and sensations proper ; the Secondary, 
as subjective, not objective, cognitions, as sensations proper, not 
percepts proper. 

The other point of view, chronologically posterior, but first in 
nature, is that of Understanding. The principle of division is 
here the different character under which the qualities, already 
apprehended, are conceived or construed to the mind in thought. 
On this ground, the Primary, being thought as essential to the 
notion of Body, are distinguished from the Secundo-primary and 
Secondary, as accidental ; while the Primary and Secundo-pri- 
mary, being thought as manifest or conceivable in their own na- 
ture, are distinguished from the Secondary, as in their own 
nature occult and inconceivable. For the notion of Matter 



=* Ml knowledge, in one respect, is subjective ; for all knowledge is an 
energy of the Ego. But when I perceive a quality o^ the Non-ego, of the 
object-object, as in immediate relation to my mind, I am said to have of it 
an objective knowledge ; in contrast to the subjective knowledge I am said 
to have of it when supposing it only as the hypothetical or occult cause ot 
an affection of which I am conscious, or thinking it only mediately through 
a subject-object or representation in, and of, the mind. 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 335 

having been once acquired, by reference to that notion, the 
Primary Qualities are recognized as its a 'priori or necessary 
constituents ; and we clearly conceive how they must exist in 
bodies in knowing what they are objectively in themselves ; the 
Secundo-primary Qualities, again, are recognized as a posteriori 
or contingent modifications of the Primary, and we clearly con- 
ceive how they do exist in bodies in knowing what they are 
objectively in their conditions ; finally, the Secondary Qualities 
are recognized as a posteriori or contingent accidents of matter, 
but we obscurely surmise how they may exist in bodies only as 
knowing what they are subjectively in their effects. 

It is thus apparent that the Primary Qualities may be deduced 
a priori^ the bare notion^ of matter being given ; they being, in 
fact, only evolutions of the conditions which that notion neces- 
sarily implies : whereas the Secundo-primary and Secondary 
must be induced a posteriori ; both being attributes contingently 
superadded to the naked notion of matter. The Primary Qual- 
ities thus fall more under the point of view of Understanding, 
the Secundo-primary and Secondary more under the point of 
view of Sense. 

Deduction of the Primary Qualities, — Space or extension is 
a necessary form of thought. We cannot think it as non-exist- 
ent ; we cannot but think it as existent. But we are not so 
necessitated to imagine the reality of aught occupying space ; for 
while unable to conceive as null the space in which the material 
universe exists, the material universe itself we can, without 
difficulty, annihilate in thought. All that exists in, all that 
occupies, space, becomes, therefore, known to us by experience : 
we acquire, we construct, its notion. The notion of space is 
thus native or a priori ; the notion of what space contains, ad- 
ventitious, or a posteriori. Of this latter class is that of Body 
or Matter. 

Now we ask, what are the necessary or essential, in con 
trast to the contingent or accidental, properties of Body, as ap- 
prehended and conceived by us ? The answer to this question 
affords the class of Primary, as contradistinguished from the 
two classes of Secundo-primary and Secondary Qualities. 



836 FKIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

It will be admitted, that we are only able to conceive Body 
as that which (I.) occupies space^ and (11.) is contained in space. 
But these catholic conditions of body, though really simple, are 
logically complex. "We may view them in different aspects or 
relations. 

I. — The property of filling space (Solidity in its unexclusive 
signihcation. Solidity Simple) implies two correlative conditions : 
(A) the necessity of trinal extension^ in lengthy hreadthj and 
thickness {Solidity geometrical) ; and (B) the corresponding 
impossibility of being reduced from what is to what is not thus 
extended (^Solidity Physical^ Impenetrability), 

A. — Out of the absolute attribute of Trinal Extension may 
be again explicated three attributes, under the form of necessary 
relations : — (i.) Number or Divisibility ; (ii.) Size^ Bulk, or 
Magnitude ; (iii.) Shape or Figure, 

i, — Body necessarily exists, and is necessarily known, either 
as one body or as many bodies. Number^ i. e. the alternative 
attribution of unity or plurality, is, thus, in a first respect, a 
primary attribute of matter. But again, every single body is 
also, in different points of view, at the same time one and many. 
Considered as a whole, it is, and is apprehended, as actually 
one ; considered as an extended whole, it is, and is conceived, 
potentially many. Body being thus necessarily known, if not 
as already divided, still as always capable of division. Divisibil- 
ity OY Number is thus likewise, in a second respect, a Primary 
attribute of matter. 

ii. — Body (niulto majus this or that body) is not infinitely 
extended. Each body must therefore have a certain finite ex- 
tension, which^ by comparison wdth that of other bodies, must be 
less, or greater, or equal ; in other words, it must by relation have 
a certain Size, Bulk, or Magnitude ; and this, again, as estimated 
both (a) by the quantity of space occupied, and (b) by the quan- 
tity of matter occupying, affords likewise the relative attributes 
of Dense and Rare, 

iii. — Finally, bodies, as not infinitely extended, have, conse- 
quently, their extension bounded. But bounded extension is 
iiecessai*ily of a certain Shape or Figure.- 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 337 

B. — The negative notion — the impossibility of conceiving 
the compression of body from an extended to an unextended, 
its elimination out of space — affords the positive notion of an 
insuperable power in body of resisting such compression or 
eliminatioii. This force, which, as absolute, is a conception of 
the Understanding, not an apprehension through Sense, has 
received no precise and unambiguous name. We might call 
it Ultimate or Absolute Iiicompressihility, 

II. — The other most general attribute of matter — that of 
being contained in space — in like manner affords, by explica- 
tion, an absolute and a relative attribute : viz. (A) the Mobility^ 
that is, the possible motion, and, consequently, the possible rest, 
of a body ; and (B) the Situation, Position, TJbication, that is, 
the local correlation of bodies in space. For 

A. — Space being conceived as infinite (or rather being in- 
conceivable as not infinite), and the place occupied by body as 
finite, body in general, and, of course, each body in particular, 
is conceived capable either of remaining in the place it now 
holds, or of being translated from that to any then unoccupied 
part of space. And 

B. — As every part of space, i. e. every potential place, holds 
a certain position relative to every other, so, consequently, must 
bodies, in so far as they are all contained in space, and as each 
occupies, at one time, one determinate space. 

The Primary Qualities of matter thus develop themselves with 
rigid necessity out of the simple datum of — substance occupying 
space. In a certain sort, and by contrast to the others, they are, 
therefore, notions a priori, and to be viewed, pro tanto, as pro- 
ducts of the Understanding. The others, on the contrary, it is 
manifestly impossible to deduce, i. e. to evolve out of such a 
given notion. They must be induced, i. e. generalized from 
experience ; are, therefore, in strict propriety, notions a poste- 
riori, and, in the last resort, mere products of Sense. 

Induction of the class of Secundo- Primary Qualities, — This 
terminates in the following conclusions. — These quahties are 
modifications, but contingent modifications, of the Primary. 
They suppose the Primary ; the Primary do not suppose them. 

29 



338 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 

Thej have all relation to space, and motion in space ; and are 
all contained under the category of Resistance or Pressure. 
For they are all only various forms of a relative or superable 
resistance to displacement, which, we learn by experience, bodies 
oppose to other bodies, and, among these, to our organism moving 
through space ; — a resistance similar in kind (and therefore 
clearly conceived) to that absolute or insuperable resistance, 
which we are compelled, independently of experience, to think 
that every part of matter would oppose to any attempt to de- 
prive it of its space, by compressing it into an inextended. 

In so far, therefore, as they suppose the Primary, which are 
necessary, while they themselves are only accidental, they ex- 
hibit, on the one side, what may be called a quas\-Primary qual- 
ity ; and, in this respect they are to be recognized as percepts, 
not sensations, as objective affections of things, and not as sub- 
jective affections of us. But, on the other side, this objective 
element is always found accompanied by a Secondary quality or 
sensorial passion. The Secundo-primary qualities have thus al- 
ways two phases, both immediately apprehended. On their 
Primary or objective phasis, they manifest themselves as degrees 
of resistance opppsed to our locomotive energy ; on their Second- 
ary or subjective phasis, as modes of resistance or pressure af- 
fecting our sentient organism. Thus standing between, and, in 
a certain sort, made up of, the two classes of Primary and Sec- 
ondary quahties, to neither of which, however, can they be re- 
duced ; this their partly common, partly peculiar nature, vindi- 
cates to them the dignity of a class apart from, both the others, 
and this under the appropriate appellation of the Secundo-pri- 
mary qualities. 

They admit of a classification from two different points of 
view. They may be physically, they may be 'psychologically^ 
distributed. — ; Considered ^physically, or in an objective relation, 
they are to be reduced to classes corresponding to the different 
sources in external nature from which the resistance or pressure 
springs. And these sources are, in all, three : — (I.) that of 
Co-attraction; (II.) that oi Repidsion; (III.) that of Inertia, 

L — Of the resistance of Co-attraction there may be distin- 



PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 839 

guislied, on the same objective principle, two subaltern genera; 
to wit (A) that of Grcwity^ or the co-attraction of the particles 
of body in general ; and (B) that of Cohesion^ or the co-attrac- 
tion of the particles of this and that body in particular. 

A. — The resistance of Gravity or Weight according to its 
degree (which, again, is in proportion to the Bulk and Density 
of ponderable matter), affords, under it, the relative qualities of 
Heavy and Light (absolute and specific). 

B. — The resistance of Cohesion (using that term in its most 
unexclusive universality) contains many species and counter- 
species. Without proposing an exhaustive, or accurately subor- 
dinated, list ; — of these there may be enumerated (i.) the Hard 
and Soft ; (ii.) the Firm (Fixed, Stable, Concrete, Solid) and 
Fluid (Liquid), the Fluid being again subdivided into the Thick 
and Thin; (iii.) the Viscid and Friable; with (iv.) the Tough 
and Brittle (Irruptile and Ruptile) ; (v.) the Rigid and Flexible ; 
(vi.) the Fissile and Infissile ; (vii.) the Ductile and Inductile 
(Extensible and Inextensible) ; (viii.) the Retractile and Irre- 
tractile (Elastic and Inelastic) ; (ix.) (combined with Figure) 
the Rough and Sinooth ; (x.) the Slippery and Tenacious, 

II. — The resistance from Repulsion is divided into the coun- 
ter qualities of (A) the (relatively) Compressible and Incom- 
pressible ; (B) the Resilient and Irresilient (Elastic aiid In- 
elastic). 

III. — The resistance from Inertia (combined with Bulk and 
Cohesion) comprises the counter qualities of the (relatively) 
Movable and Immovable. 

There are thus, at least, fifteen pairs of counter attributes 
which we may refer to the Secundo-primary Qualities of Body ; 
— all obtained by the division and subdivision of the resisting 
forces of matter, considered in an objective or physical point of 
view. 

Considered psychologically , or in a subjective relation, they 
are to be discriminated, under the genus of the Relatively resist- 
ing, [I.] according to the degi^ee in which the resisting force 
might counteract our locomotive faculty or muscular force ; and, 
[IL] according* to the mode in which it might affect our capacity 



340 PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. * 

of feeling or sentient organism. Of these specie?, the former 
would contain under it the gradations, of the quasi-Primary 
quality, the latter the varieties of the Secondary quality — these 
constituting the two elements of which, in combination, every 
Secundo-primary quality is made up. So much for the induc- 
tion of the Secundo-primary qualities. 

Induction of the Secondary Qualities. — Its results are the 
following. — The Secondary, as manifested to us, are not, in 
propriety, qualities of Body at all. As apprehended, they are 
only subjective affections, and belong only to bodies in so far as 
these are supposed furnished with the powers capable of specifi- 
cally determining the various parts of our nervous apparatus to 
the peculiar action, or rather passion, of which they are suscep- 
tible ; which determined action or passion is the quality of which 
alone we are immediately cognizant, the external concause of 
that internal effect remaining to perception altogether unknown. 
Thus, the Secondary qualities (and the same is to be said, mu- 
tatis mutandis y of the Secundo-primary) are, considered subjec- 
tively, and considered objectively, affections or qualities of things 
diametrically opposed in nature — of the organic and inorganic, 
of the sentient and insentient, of mind and matter ; and though, 
as mutually correlative, and their several pairs rarely obtaining 
in conimon language more than a single name, they cannot well 
be considered, except in conjunction, under the same category 
or general class ; still their essential contrast of character must 
be ever carefully borne in mind. And in speaking of these 
qualities, as we are here chiefly concerned with them on their 
subjective side, I request it may be observed, that I shall em- 
ploy the expression Secondary qualities to denote those phenom- 
enal affections determined in our sentient organism by the 
agency of external bodies, and not, unless when otherwise 
stated, the occult powers themselves from which that agency 
proceeds. 

Of the Secondary qualities, in this relation, there are various 
kinds ; the variety principally depending on the differences of 
the different parts of our nervous apparatus. Such are the 
proper sensibles, the idiopathic affections of ouf several organs 



^ PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES. 341 

of sense, as Color, Sound, Flavor, Savor, and Tactual sensation ; 
such are the feelings from Heat, Electricity, Galvanism, etc. ; 
nor need it be added, such are the muscular and cutaneous 
sensations which accompany the perception of the Secundo-pri- 
mary qualities. Such, though less directly the result of foreign 
causes, are Titillation, Sneezing, Horripilation, Shuddering, the 
feeling of what is called Setting-the-teeth-on-edge, etc., etc. ; 
such, in fine, are all the various sensations of bodily pleasure 
and pain determined by the action of external stimuli. 

What they are in general. — 1. The Primary are less prop- 
erly denominated Qualities (Suchnesses), and deserve the name 
only as we conceive them to distinguish body from not-body, — 
corporeal from incorporeal substance. They are thus merely 
the attributes of body as body, — cSrporis ut corpus. The Se- 
cundo-primary and Secondary, on the contrary, are in strict 
propriety denominated Qualities, for they discriminate body 
from body. They are the attributes' of body as this or that kind 
of body^ — corporis ut tale corpus, 

2. The Primary determine the possibility of matter abso* 
lutely; the Secundo-primary, the possibility of the material 
universe as actually constituted ; the Secondary, the possibiHty 
of our relation as sentient existences to that universe. 
■ 3. Under the Primary, we apprehend modes of the Non-ego ; 
under the Secundo-primary, we apprehend modes both of the 
Ego and of the Non-ego ; under the Secondary, we apprehend 
modes of the Ego, and infer modes of the Non-ego. 

4. The Primary are apprehended as they are in bodies ; the 
Secondary as they are in us ; the Secundo-primary as they are 
in bodies, and as they are in us. , 

5. The Primary are conceived as necessary and perceived 
as actual ; the Secundo-primary are perceived and conceived as 
actual ; the Secondary are inferred and conceived as possible. 

6. The Primary may be roundly characterized as mathemat- 
ical ; the Secundo-primary, as mechanical ; the Secondary, as 
physiological. 

29* 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — OBJECTIONS TO THE DOC 
TRINE OF NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. — THE REPRE 
SENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 

From our previous discussions, you are now, in some meas* 
ure, prepaffed for a consileration of the grounds on which 
philosophers have so generally asserted the scientific necessity 
of repressing the testimony of consciousness to the fact of our 
immediate perception of external objects, and of allowing us 
only a mediate knowledge of the material world : a procedure 
by which they either admit, or cannot rationally deny, that 
Consciousness is *a mendacious witness ; that Philosophy and 
the Common Sense of mankind are placed in contradiction; 
nay, that the only legitimate philosophy is an absolute and uni- 
versal scepticism. That consciousness, in perception, affords us, 
as I have stated, an assurance of an intuitive cognition of the 
Non-ego, is not only notorious to every one who will interrogate 
consciousness as to the fact, but is, as I have already shown you, 
acknowledged not only by Cosmothetic Idealists, but even by 
absolute Idealists and Sceptics. 

Order of the discussion. — In considering this subject, it is 
manifest that, before rejecting the testimony of consciousness to 
our immediate knowledge of the Non-ego, the philosophers were 
bound, in the first place, to evince the absolute necessity of their 
rejection ; and, in the second place, in substituting an hypothe- 
sis in the room of the rejected fact, they are bound to substitute 
a legitimate hypothesis, — that is, one which does not violate 
the laws under which an hypothesis can be rationally proposed. 
I shall, therefore, divide the discussion into two sections. In 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 343 

the former, I shall state the reasons, as far as I l\^ve been able 
to discover them, on which philosophers have attempted to man- 
ifest the impossibility of acquiescing in the testimony of con- 
sciousness and the general belief of mankind ; and, at the same 
time, endeavor to refute these reasons, by showing that they do 
not establish the necessity required. In the latter, I shall at- 
tempt to prove that the hypothesis proposed by the philosophers, 
in place of the fact of consciousness, does not fulfil the condi- 
tions of a legitimate hypothesis, — in fact, violates them almost 
all. In the first place, then, in regard to the reasons assigned 
by philosophers for their refusal of the fact of our immediate 
perception of external things, — of these, I have been able to 
collect in all five. 

The first ground of rejection.. — The first, and highest, ground 
on which it may be held, that the object immediately known in 
perception is a modification of the mind itself, is the following : 
Perception is a cognition or act of knowledge ; a cognition is an 
immanent act of mind ; but to suppose the cognition of any 
thing external to the mind, would be to suppose an act of the 
mind going out of itself, in other words, a transeunt act ; but 
action supposes existence, and nothing can act where it is not ; 
therefore, to act out of self is to exist out of self, which is ab- 
surd. 

This argument, though I have never met with it explicitly 
announced, is still implicitly supposed in the arguments of those 
philosophers who hold, that the mind cannot be conscious of 
aught beyond its own modifications. It will not stand examina- 
tion. It is very true that we can neither prove, nor even con- 
ceive, how the Ego can be conscious or immediately cognitive 
of the Non ego ; but this, our ignorance, is no sufiicient reason 
on which to deny the possibility of the fact. As a fact, and a 
primary fact, of consciousness, we must be ignorant of the why 
and the how of its reality, for we have no higher notion through 
which to comprehend it, and, if it involve no contradiction, we 
are, philosophically, bound to accept it. But if we examine the 
argument a little closer, we shall find that it proves too much ; 
for, on the same principle, we should establish the impossibility 



344 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 

of any overt .act of volition, — nay, even the impossibility of 
all agency and mutual causation. For if, on the ground that 
nothing can act out of itself, because nothing exists out of itself, 
we deny to mind the immediate knowledge of things external ; 
on the same principle, we must deny to mind the power of de- 
termining any muscular movement of the body. And if the ac- 
tion of every existence were limited to the sphere of that existence 
itself, then, no one thing could act upon any other thing, and all 
action and reaction, in the universe, would be impossible. This is 
a general absurdity, which follows from the principle in question. 

But there is a peculiar and proximate absurdity, into which 
this theory runs, in the attempt it makes to escape the inexpli- 
cable. It is this : — The Cosmothetic Idealists, who found their 
doctrine on the impossibility of mind acting out of itself, in re- 
lation to matter, are obliged to admit the still less conceivable 
possibility of matter acting out of itself, in relation to mind. 
They deny that mind is immediately conscious of matter ; and, 
to save the phaenomenon of perception, they assert that the 
Non-ego, as given in that act, is only an illusive representation 
of the Non-ego, in, and by, the Ego. Well, admitting this, and 
allowing them to belie the testimony of consciousness to the 
reality of the Non-ego as perceived, what do they gain by this ? 
They surrender the simple datum of consciousness, — that the 
external object is immediately known ; and, in lieu of that real 
object, they substitute a representative object. But still they 
hold (at least those who do not fly to some hyperphysical hy- 
pothesis) that the mind is determined to this representation by 
the material reality, to which material reality they must, there- 
fore, accord the very transeunt efficiency which they deny to the 
immaterial principle. This first and highest ground, therefore, 
on which it is attempted to estabhsh the necessity of a repre- 
sentative perception, is not only insufficient, but self-contradic- 
tory. 

The second ground of rejection. — The second ground on 
which it has been attempted to establish the necessity of this 
hypothesis, is one which has been more generally and more openly 
founded oi than the preceding. Mind and matter, it is said, are 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 345 

substances, not only of different, but of the most opposite, na- 
tures ; separated, as some philosophers express it, by the whole 
diameter of being : but what immediately knows, must be of a 
nature correspondent, analogous, to that which is known ; mind 
cannot, therefore, be conscious or immediately cognizant of 
what is so disproportioned to its essence as matter. 

This principle is one whose influence is seen pervading the 
whole history of philosophy, and the tracing of this influence 
would form the subject of a curious treatise. To it we princi- 
pally owe the doctrine of a representative perception^ in one or 
other of its forms ; and in a higher or lower potence, according 
as the representative object was held to be, in relation to mind, 
of a nature either the same or similar, Perivative from the 
principle in its lower potence or degree, (that is, the immediate 
object being supposed to be only something similar to the 
mind,) we have, among other less celebrated and less definite 
theories, the intentional specias of the Schoolmen (at least as 
generally held), and the ideas of Malebranche and Berkeley. 
In its higher potence, (that is, where the representative object 
is supposed to be of a nature not merely similar to, but identi- 
cal with, mind, though it may be numerically different from 
individual minds,) it affords us, among other modifications, the 
gnostic reasons of the Platonists, the preexisting species of 
Avicenna and other Arabian Aristotelians, the ideas of Des- 
cartes, Arnauld, Leibnitz, Buffier, and Condillac, the phcenom- 
ena of Kant, and the external states of Dr. Brown. It is 
doubtful to which head we should refer Locke, and Newton, 
and Clarke, — nay, whether we should not refer them to the 
class of those who, like Democritus, Epicurus, and Digby, 
viewed the representative or immediate object as a material 
efflux or propagation from the external reality to the brain. 
To the influence of the same principle, through the refusal of 
the testimony of consciousness to the duaUty of our knowledge, 
are also mediately to be traced the unitarian systems of abso- 
lute identity, materialism, and idealism. 

Refutation of this principle, — But, if no principle was ever 
more universal in its effects, none was ever more arbitrarily 



346 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 

assumed. It not onlj can pretend to no necessity ; it has abso- 
lutely no probability in its favor. Some philosophers, as Anax- 
agoras, Heraclitus, Alcmseon, have even held that the relation 
of knowledge supposes, not a similarity or sameness between 
subject and object, but, in fact, a contrariety or opposition ; and 
Aristotle himself is sometimes in favor of this opinion, though, 
sometimes, it Avould appear, in favor of the other. But, however 
(his may be, each assertion is just as likely, and just as unphi- 
losophical, as its converse. We know, and can know, nothing a 
priori of what is possible or impossible to mind, and it is only 
by observation and by generalization a posteriori^ that we can 
ever hope to attain any insight into the question. But the very 
tirst fact of our experience contradicts the assertion, that mind, 
as of an opposite nature, can have no immediate cognizance of 
matter ; for the primary datum of consciousness is, that in per- 
ception, we have an intuitive knowledge of the Ego and of the 
Non-ego, equally and at once. -This second ground, therefore, 
affords us no stronger necessity than the first, for denying the 
possibility of the fact of which consciousness assures us. 

The third ground of rejection, — The third ground on which 
the representative hypothesis of perception is founded, and that 
apparently alone contemplated by Eeid and Stewart, is, that 
the mind can only know immediately that to which it is imme- 
diately present ; but as external objects can neither themselves 
come into the mind, nor the mind go out to them, such presence 
is impossible ; therefore, external objects can only be mediately 
known, through some representative object, whether that object 
be a modification of mind, or something in immediate relation 
to the mind. It was this difficulty of bringing the subject and 
ol ject into proximate relation, that, in part, determined all the 
various schemes of a representative perception ; but it seems 
to have been the one which solely determined the peculiar form 
of that doctrine in the philosophy of Democritus, Epicurus, 
Digby, and others, under which it is held, that the immediate or 
internal object is a representative emanation, propagated from 
the external reality to the sensorium. 

Now this objection to the immediate cognition of external 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL KEALISM CONSIDERED. 347 

objects, has, as far as I know, been redargued in three different 
ways. In the Jirst j)lace, it has been denied, that the external 
reahtj cannot itself come into the mind. In the second^ it has 
been asserted, that a faculty of the mind itself does actually go 
out to the external reality ; and, in the third place, it has been 
maintained that, though the mind neither goes out, nor the real- 
ity comes in, and though subject and object are, therefore, not 
present to each other, still that the mind, through the agency 
of God, has an immediate perception of the external object. 

The Jirst mode of obviating the present objection to the possi- 
bility of an immediate perception, might be thought too absurd 
to have been ever attempted. But the observation of Yarro, 
that there is nothing so absurd which has not been asserted by 
some philosopher, is not destined to be negatived in the present 
instance. In opposition to Locke's thesis, "that the mind 
knows not things immediately, but only by the intervention of 
the ideas it has of them," and in opposition to the whole doc- 
trine of representation, it is maintained, in terms, by Sergeant, 
that " I know the very thing ; therefore, the very thing is in 
my act of knowledge ; but my act of knowledge is in my 
understanding ; therefore, the thing which is in my knowledge, 
13 also in my understanding." We may suspect that this is 
only a paradoxical way of stating his opinion ; but though this 
author, the earliest and one of the most eloquent of Locke's 
antagonists, be destitute neither of learning nor of acuteness, I 
must confess, that Locke and Molyneux cannot be blamed in 
pronouncing his doctrine unintelligible. 

The second mode of obviating the objection, — by allowing to 
the nLind a power of sallying out to the external reality, has 
higher authority in its favor. That vision is effected by a per- 
ceptive emanation from the eye, was held by Empedocles, the 
Platonists, and Stoics, and was adopted also by Alexander the 
Aphrodisi^n, by Euclid, Ptolemy, Galen, and Alchindus. Tliis 
opinion, as held by these philosophers, was limited ; and, though 
erroneous, is not to be viewed as irrational. But in the hands 
of Lord Monboddo, it is carried to an absurdity which leaves 
even Sergeant far behind. "The mind," says the learned 



548 OBJECTIQNS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 

author of Ancient Metaphysics^ " is not wliere the body is, when 
it perceives what is distant from the body, either in time or 
place, because nothing can act but when and where it is. Now 
the mind acts when it perceives. The mind, therefore, of every 
animal who has memory or imagination, acts, and, by conse- 
quence, exists, when and where the body is not ; for it per- 
ceives objects distant from the body, both in time and place." 

The third mode is apparently that adopted by Reid and 
Stewart, who hold, that the mind has an immediate knowledge 
of the external reality, though the subject and object may not 
be present to each other ; and, though this be not explicitly or 
obtrusively stated, that the mind obtains this immediate knowl- 
edge through the agency of God. Dr. Reid's doctrine of per- 
ception is thus summed up by Mr. Stewart : " To what, then, 
it may be asked, does this statement amount ? Merely to this : 
that the mind is so formed that certain impressions produced on 
our organs of sense by external objects are followed by corre- 
spondent sensations, and that these sensations, (which have no 
more resemblance to the qualities of matter than the words of 
a language have to the things they denote,) are followed by a 
perception of the existence and qualities of the bodies by which 
the impressions are made; that all the steps of this process are 
equally incomprehensible ; and that, for any thing we can prove 
to the contrary, the connection between the sensation and the 
perception, as well as that between the impression and the sen-, 
sation, may be both arbitrary ; that it is, therefore, by no means 
impossible, that our sensations may be merely the occasions on 
which the correspondent perceptions are excited ; and that, at 
any rate, the consideration of these sensations, which are attri- 
butes of mind, can throw no light on the manner in which we 
acquire our knowledge of the existence and quahties of body. 
From this view of the subject.it follows, that it is the external 
objects themselves, and not any species or images of the objects, 
that the mind perceives ; and that, although, by the constitution 
of our nature, certain sensations are rendered the constant ante- 
cedents of our perceptions, yet it is just as difficult to explain 
how our perceptions are obtained by their means, as it would be 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 349 

upon the supposition tliat the mind were all at once inspired 
with them, without any concomitant sensations whatever.'' * 

The doctrine of Occasional Causes. — This statement, when 
illustrated by the doctrine of these philosophers in regard to the 
distinctions of Efficient and Physical Causes, might be almost 
identified with the Cartesian doctrine of Occasional Causes 
According to Reid and Stewart, — and the opinion has been 
more explicitly asserted by the latter, — there is no really effi- 
cient cause in nature but one, namely, the Deity. What are 
called Physical causes and effects being antecedents and conse- 
quents, but not in virtue of any mutual and necessary depen- 
dence ; — the only Efficient being God, who, on occasion of the 
antecedent, which is called the physical cause, produces the 
consequent, which is called the physical effect. So in the case 
of perception ; the cognition of the external object is not, or 
may not be, a consequence of the immediate and natural rela- 
tion of that object to the mind, but of the agency of God, who, 
as it were, reveals the outer existence to our perception. A 
similar doctrine is held by a great German philosopher, Fred- 
eric Henry Jacobi. 

To this opinion many objections occur. In ihe first place, so 

^ [If an immediate knowledge of external things — that is, a conscious- 
ness of the qualities of the Non-ego — be admitted, the belief of their exist- 
ence follows of course. On this supposition, therefore, such a belief would 
not be unaccountable ; for it would be accounted for by the fact of the 
knowledge, in which it would necessarily be contained. Our belief, in this 
case, of the existence of external objects would not be more inexplicable 
than our belief that 2-1-2 = 4. In both cases, it would be sufficient to say, 
we believe because we know ; for belief is only unaccountable when it is not 
the consequent or concomitant of knowledge. By this, however, I do not, 
of course, mean to say, that knowledge is not in itself marvellous and 
unaccountable. 

Mr. Stewart proposes a supplement to this doctrine of Reid, in order to 
explain why we believe in the existence of the qualities of external objects 
when they are not the objects of our perception, — [that is, why we believe 
that thej continue to exist after we have ceased to perceive them]. This 
belief he holds to be the result of experience, in combination with an orig- 
inal principle of our constitution, whereby we are determined to believe in 
the permanence of the laws of nature.] — Notes to Reid, 

30 



350 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSID}i;RED. 

far is it from being, as Mr. Stewart affirms, a plain statemeiit of 
the facts, apart from all hypothesis, it is manifestly hypotheticaL 
In the second place, the hypothesis assumes an occult princi- 
ple ; — it is mystical. In the third place, the hypothesis .is 
hyperphysical^ — calling in the proximate assistance of the 
Deity, while the necessity of such intervention is not estab- 
lished. In the fourth place, it goes even far to frustrate the 
whole doctrine of the two philosophers in regard to perception, 
as a doctrine of intuition. For if God has bestowed on me the 
faculty of immediately perceiving the external object, there is 
no need to suppose the necessity of an immediate intervention 
of the Deity to make that act effectual ; and if, on the contrary, 
the perception I have of the reality is only excited by the 
agency of God, then I can hardly be held to know that reality, 
immediately and in itself, but only mediately, through the 
notion of it determined in my mind. 

The doctrine of immediate perception not unintelligible. — 
Let us try, then, whether it be impossible, not to explain (for 
that it would be ridiculous to dream of attempting), but to ren- 
der intelligible, the possibility of an immediate perception of 
external objects, without assuming any of the three preceding 
hypotheses, and without postulating aught that can fairly be 
refused. 

Where the mind is situated. — Now, in the first place, there 
is no good ground to suppose, that the mind is situate solely in 
the brain, or exclusively in any one part of the body. On the 
contrary, the supposition that it is really ^present wherever we are 
conscious that it^ acts, — in a word, the Peripatetic aphorism, 
the soul is all in the whole and all in every part, — is more phi- 
losophical, and, consequently, more probable, thaii any other 
opinion. It has not been always noticed, even by those who 
deem themselves the chosen champions of the immateriality of 
mind, that we materialize mind, when we attribute to it the rela- 
tions of matter. Thus, we cannot attribute a local seat to the 
soul, without clothing it with the properties of extension and 
place, and those who suppose this seat to be but a point, only 
aggravate the difficulty. Admitting the spirituality of mind, all 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 351 

that we know of the relation of soul and body is, that the former 
is connected with the latter in a way of which we are wholly 
ignorant ; and that it holds relations, different both in degree 
and kind, with different parts of the organism. We have no 
right, however, to say that it is limited to any one part of the 
organism ; for even if we admit that the nervous system is the 
part to which it is proximately united, still the nervous system 
is itself universally ramified throughout the body; and we 
have no more right to deny that the mind feels at the finger- 
points, as consciousness assures us, than to assert that it thinks 
exclusively in the brain. 

The sum of our knowledge of the connection of mind and 
body is, therefore, this, — that the mental modifications are de- 
pendent on certain corporeal conditions ; but of the nature of 
these conditions, we know nothing. For example, we know, 
by experience, that the mind perceives only through certain 
organs of sense, and that, through these different organs, it 
perceives in a different manner. But whether the senses be 
instruments, whether they be media, or whether they be only 
partial outlets to the mind incarcerated in the body, — on all 
this, we can only theorize and conjecture. We have no reason 
whatever to believe, contrary to the testimony of conscious- 
ness, that there is an action or affection of the bodily sense 
previous to the mental perception ; or that the mind only per- 
ceives in the head, in consequence of the impression on the 
organ. On the other hand, we have no reason whatever to 
doubt the report of consciousness, that we actually perceive at 
the external point of sensation, and that we perceive the mate- 
rial reality. But what is meant hy perceiving the material 
reality f 
/\ What is the total and real object of perception ? — In the^r*^ 
3 place, it does not mean that we perceive the material reality ab- 
i solutely and in itself, that is, out of relation to our organs and 
faculties ; on the contrary, the total and real object of J)erception 
is the external object under relation to oiXr sense and faculty of 
cognition. But though thus relative to us, the object is still no 
representation, — no modification of the Ego. It is the Non-ego, 



*d52 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 

— the Non-ego modified, and relative, it may be, but still the 
Non-ego. I formerly illustrated this to you by a supposition. 
Suppose that the total object of consciousness in perception is 
=1=12; and suppose' that the external reality contributes 6, the 
material sense 3, and the mind 3 ; — this may enable you to 
form some rude conjecture of the nature of the object of per- 
ception. • 

What is the external object perceived ? — But, in the second 
place, what is meant by the external object perceived ? Noth- 
ing can be conceived more ridiculous than the opinion of philos- 
ophers in regard to this. For example, it has been curiously 
held (and Reid is no exception), that in looking at the sun, 
moon, or any other object of sight, we are, on the one doctrine, 
actually conscious of these distant objects ; or, on the other, that 
these distant objects are those really represented in the mind. 
Nothing can be more absurd : we perceive, through no sense, 
aught external but what is in immediate relation and in immedi- 
ate contact with its organ ; and that is true which Democritus 
of old asserted, that all our senses are only modifications of touch. 
Through the eye, we perceive nothing but the rays of light in 
relation to, and in contact with, the retina ; what we add to this 
perception must not be taken into account. The same is true 
of the other senses."^ 

^ [It is incorrect to say that '' we see the object," (meaning the thing 
from which the rays come by emanation or reflection, but which is unknown 
or incognizable by sight,) and so forth. It would be more correct to de- 
scribe vision as a perception by which we take immediate cognizance of 
light in relation to our organ — that is, as diffused and figured upon the re- 
tina, under various modifications of degree and kind (brightness and color) 

— and likewise as falling upon it in a particular direction. The image on 
the retina is not itself an object of visual perception. It is only to be re- 
garded as the complement of those points, or of that sensitive surface, on 
which the rays impinge, and with which they enter into relation. The total 
object of visual perception is thus, neither the rays in themselves, nor the 
organ in itself, but the rays and the living organ in reciprocity ; this organ is 
not, however, to be viewed as merely the retina, but as the whole tract of 
nervous fibre pertaining to the sense. In an act of vision, as also in the 
other sensitive acts, I am thus conscious (the word should not be restricted 
to self -consciousness) , or immediately cognizant, not only of the affections of 



OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. ,3':i 

Now what is there monstrous or inconceivable in this doctrine 
of an immediate perception ? The objects are neither carried into 
the mind, nor the mind made to sally out to them ; nor do we 
require a miracle to justify its possibility. In fact, the con- 
sciousness of external objects, on this doctrine, is not more in- 
conceivable than the consciousness of species or ideas on the 
doctrine of the Schoolmen, Malebranche, or Berkeley. In either 
case, there is a consciousness of the Non-ego, and, in either case, 
the Ego and Non-ego are in intimate relation. There is, in fact, 
on this hypothesis, no greater marvel, that the mind should be 
cognizant of the external reality, than that it should be con- 
nected with a body at all. The latter being the case, the former 
is not even improbable ; all inexplicable as both equally remain. 
" We are unable," says Pascal, " to conceive what is mind ; we 
are unable to conceive what is matter ; .still less are we able to 
conceive how these are united ; — yet this is our proper nature." 
So much in refutation of the third ground of difficulty to the 
doctrine of an immediate perception. 

The fourth ground of objection is that of Hume. It is alleged 
by him in the sequel of the paragraph of which I have already 
quoted to you [see page 197] the commencement: "This uni- 
versal and primary opinion of all men is soon destroyed by the 
slightest philosophy, which teaches us, that nothing can ever be 
present to the mind but an image or perception, and that the 
senses are only the inlets, through which these images are con- 
veyed, without being ever able to produce any immediate inter- 
course between the mind and the object. The table which we 
see, seems to diminish, as we remove further from it : but the 

self, but of the phenomena of something different from itself, — both, how- 
ever, always in relation to each other. According as, in different senses, 
the subjective or the objective element preponderates, we have sensation or 
perception, the secondary or the primary qualities of matter; — distinctions 
which are thus identified and carried up into a general law.. 

It is wrong to say that " a body is smelted by means of effluvia." Nothing 
is smelt but the effluvia themselves. They constitute the total object of 
perception in smell ; and, in all the senses, the only object perceived is that 
in immediate contact with the organ. There is, in reality, no medium in 
any sense.] — Notes to Reid. 

30* 



354 OBJECTIONS TO NATURAL REALISM CONSIDERED. 

real table, wliich exists independent of us, suffers no alteration : 
it was, therefore, nothing but its image, which was present to 
the mind. These are the obvious dictates of reason ; and no 
man, who reflects, ever doubted that the existences, which we 
consider, when we say this house, and that tree, are nothing 
but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies or represen- 
tations of other existences, which remain uniform and inde- 
pendent." ' 

This objection to the veracity of consciousness, will not occa 
sion us much trouble. Its refutation is, in fact, contained in the 
very statement of the real external object of perception. The 
whole argument consists in a mistake of what that object is. 
That a thing, viewed close to the eye, should appear larger and 
differently figured, than when seen at a distance, and that, at too 
great a distance, it should even become for us invisible altogether ; 
- — this only shows that what changes the real object of sight, — 
the reflected rays in contact with the eye, — also changes, as it 
ought to change, our perception of such object. This ground 
of difliculty could be refuted through the whole senses ; but its 
weight is not sufficient to entitle it to any further consideration. 

The Jifth ground, on which the necessity of substituting a 
representative for an intuitive perception has been maintained, 
is that of Fichte. It asserts that the nature of the Ego, as an 
intelligence endowed with will, makes it absolutely necessary, 
that, of all external objects of perception, there should be rep- 
resentative modifications in the mind. For as the Ego itself is 
that which wills ; therefore, in so far as the will tends towards 
objects, these must lie within the Ego. An external reality 
cannot lie within the Ego ; there must,- therefore, be supposed, 
within the mind, a representation of this reality different from 
the reaUty itself. 

This fifth argument involves sundry vices, and is not of greater 
value than the four preceding. In the Jirst place, it proceeds 
on the assertion, that the objects on which the will is directed, 
must lie within the willing Ego itself. But how is this assertion 
proved ? That the will can only tend toward those things of 
which tb^. Ego has itself a knowledge, is. undoubtedly true. But 



THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 355 

from ihis it does not follow, that the object to which the knowl- 
edge is relative, must, at the same time, be present with it in 
the Ego ; but if there be a perceptive cognition, that is, a con- 
sciousness of some object external to the Ego, this perception is 
competent to excite, and to direct, the will, notwithstanding that 
its object lies without the Ego. That, therefore, no immediate 
knowledge of external objects is possible, and that conscious- 
ness is exclusively limited to the Ego, is not evinced by this ar- 
gument of Fichte, but simply assumed. 

In the second place, this argument is faulty, in that it takes no 
account of the difference between those cognitions which lie at 
the root of the energies of will, and the other kinds of knowl- 
edge. Thus, our will never tends to what is present, — to what 
we possess, and immediately cognize ; but is always directed on 
the future, and is concerned either with the continuance of those 
states of the Ego which are already in existence, or with the 
production of wholly novel states. But the future cannot be 
intuitively, immediately, perceived, but only represented and 
mediately conceived. That a mediate cognition is necessary, as 
the condition of an act of will, — this does not prove that every 
cognition must be mediate. 

We have thus found by an examination of the various grounds 
on which it has been attempted to establish the necessity of re- 
jecting the testimony of consciousness to the intuitive percep- 
tion of the external world, that these grounds are, one and all, 
incompetent. I shall [now] proceed to the second section of the 
discussion, — to consider the nature of the hypothesis of Repre- 
sentation or Cosmothetic Idealism, by which it is proposed to 
replace the fact of consciousness and the doctrine of Natural 
Realism ; and shall show you that this hypothesis, though, under 
various modifications, adopted in almost every system of philos- 
ophy, fulfils none of the conditions of a legitimate hypothesis. 

The hypothesis unnecessary, — In the first place, from the 
grounds on which the Cosmothetic Idealist would vindicate the 
necessity of his rejection of the datum of consciousness, the 
hypothesis itself is unnecessary. The examination of these 
grounds proves, that the fact of consciousness is not shown to 



3r)G THE KEPRESENTATIYE HYPOTHESIS EEFUTED, 

be impossible. So far, therefore, there is no necessity made out 
for its rejection. But it is said the fact of consciousness is in- 
explicable ; we cannot understand ?iow the immediate perception 
of an external object is possible : whereas the hypothesis of rep- 
resentation enables us to comprehend and explain the phaenom- 
enon, and is, therefore, if not absolutely necessary, at least 
entitled to favor and preference. But even on this lower, — 
this precarious ground, the hypothesis is absolutely unnecessary. 
That, on the incomprehensibihty of the fact of consciousness, it 
is allowable to displace the fact by an hypothesis, is of all ab- 
surdities the greatest. As a fact, — an ultimate fact of con- 
sciousness, it must he incomprehensible ; and were it compre- 
hensible, that is, did we know it in its causes, — did we know it 
as contained in some higher notion, — it would not be a primary 
fact of consciousness, — it would not be an ultimate datum of 
intelligence. Every how (^diori) rests ultimately on a that (oTt) ; 
every demonstration is deduced from something given and inde- 
monstrable ; all that is comprehensible hangs from some revealed^ 
fact, which we must believe as actual, but cannot construe to the 
reflective intellect in its possibility. In consciousness, in the 
original spontaneity of intelligence (vovg, locus jprincipiorum), 
are revealed the primordial facts of our intelligent nature. 

But the Cosmothetic Idealist has no right to ask the Natural 
Realist for an explanation of the fact of consciousness ; suppos- 
ing even that his own hypothesis were, in itself, both clear and 
probable, — supposing that the consciousness of self were intel- 
ligible, and the consciousness of the not-self the reverse. For, 
on this supposition, the intelligible consciousness of self could 
not be an ultimate fact, but must be comprehended through a 
higher cognition, — a higher consciousness, which would again 
be itself either comprehensible or not. If comprehensible, this 
would, of course, require a still higher cognition, and so on, till 
we arrive at some datum of intelligence, which, as highest, we 

^ This expression is not meant to imply any thing hyperphysical. It is 
used to denote the ultimate and incomprehensible nature of the fact, — of 
the fact which must be believed, though it cannot be understood, — cannot 
be explainai. 



THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 357 

could not understand tlirougli a higlier ; so that, at best, tlie hy- 
pothesis of representation, proposed in place of the fact of con- 
sciousness, only removes the difficulty by one or two steps. The 
end to be gained is thus of no value ; and, for this end, as we 
have seen and shall see, there would be sacrificed the possibility 
of philosophy as a rational knowledge altogether ; and, in the 
possibility of philosophy, of course, the possibility of the very 
hypothesis itself. 

The hypothesis not more intelligihle than the fact. — But is the 
hypothesis really, in itself, a whit more intelligible than the fact 
which it displaces ? The reverse is true. What does the hy- 
pothesis suppose ? It supposes that the mind can represent that 
of which it knows nothing, — that of which it is ignorant. Is 
this more comprehensible than the simple fact, that the mind 
immediately knows what is different from itself, and what is 
really an affection of the bodily organism ? It seems, in truth, 
not only incomprehensible, but contradictory. The hypothesis 
of a representative perception thus violates the first condition of 
a legitimate hypothesis, — it is unnecessary ; — nay, not only 
unnecessary, it cannot do what it professes, — it explains nothing, 
it renders nothing comprehensible. 

The second condition of a legitimate hypothesis is, that it shall 
not subvert that which it is devised to explain ; — that it shall not 
explode the system of which it forms a part. But this, the hy- 
pothesis in question does ; it annihilates itself in the destruction 
of the whole edifice of knowledge. Belying the testimony of 
consciousness to our immediate perception of an outer world, it 
belies the veracity of consciousness altogether ; and the truth of 
consciousness is the condition of the possibility of all knowledge. 

The third condition of a legitimate hypothesis is, \h?ii the fact 
or facts^ in explanation of which it is devised, be ascertained 
really to exist, and be not themselves hypothetical. But so far 
is the principal fact, which the hypothesis of a representative 
perception is proposed to explain, from being certain, that its 
reality is even rendered problematical by the proposed expla- 
nation itself. The facts which this hypothesis supposes to be 
ascertained and established are two — first, the fact of an external 



858 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 

world existing ; second, the fact of an internal world knowing. 
These the hypothesis takes for granted. For it is asked. How 
are these connected ?. — How can the internal world know the 
external world existing ? And, in answer to this problem, the 
hypothesis of representation is advanced as explaining the mode 
of their correlation. This hypothesis denies the immediate 
connection of the two facts ; it denies that the mind, the inter- 
nal world, can be immediately cognizant of matter, the external ; 
and between the tw^o worlds it interpolates a representation, 
which is at once the object known by mind, and as known, an 
image vicarious or representative of matter, ex hypothesis in 
itself unknown. 

The procedure vicious, — But mark the vice of the procedure. 
We can only, 1°, Assert the existence of an external world, 
inasmuch as we know it to exist ; and we can only, 2°, Assert 
that one thing is representative of another, inasmuch as the 
thing represented is known mdependently of the representation. 
But how does the hypothesis of a representative perception 
proceed ? It actually converts the fact into an hypothesis ; 
actually converts the hypothesis into a fact. On this theory, 
we do not know the existence of an external world, except on 
the supposition that that which we do know, truly represents 
it as existing. The Hypothetical Realist cannot, therefore, 
establish the fact of the external world, except upon the 
fact of its representation. This is manifest. We have, there- 
fore, next to ask him, how he knows the fact, that the ex- 
ternal world is actually represented. A representation supposes 
something represented, and the representation of the external 
world supposes the existence of that world. Now, the Hypo- 
thetical Realist, when asked how he proves the reality of the 
outer world, which, ex hypothesis he does not know, can only 
say that he infers its existence from the fact of its representation. 
But the fact of the representation of an external world sup- 
poses the existence of that world ; therefore, he is again at the 
point from which he started. He has been arguing in a circle. 
There is thus a see-saw between the hypothesis and the fact ; 
the fact is assumed as an hypothesis ; the hypothesis explained 



THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 359 

as a fact ; each is established, each is expounded, by the other. 
To account for the possibihty of an unknown external world, 
the hypothesis of representation is devised ; and to account for 
the possibility of representation, we imagine the hypothesis of 
an external world. 

The Cosmothetic Idealist thus begs the fact which he would 
explain. And, on the hypothesis of a representative perception, 
it is admitted by the philosophers themselves who hold it, that 
the descent to absolute Idealism is a logical precipice, from 
which they can alone attempt to save themselves by appealing 
to the natural beliefs, to the common sense, of mankind, — that 
is, to the testimony of that very consciousness to which their own 
hypothesis gives the lie. 

The hypothesis subverts the phcenomenon to be explained, — 
In the fourth place, a legitimate hypothesis must save the phse- 
nomena which it is invented to explain ; that is, it must account 
for them adequately and without exclusion, distortion, or muti- 
lation. But the hypothesis of a representative perception pro- 
poses to accomplish its end only by first destroying, and then 
attempting to recreate, the phasnomena, for the fact of which it 
should, as a legitimate hypothesis, only afford a reason. The 
total, the entire phaenomenon to be explained, is the p*h8enom- 
enon given in consciousness of the immediate knowledge by 
me, or mind, of an existence different from me, or mind. This 
phaenomenon, however, the hypothesis in question does not 
preserve entire. On the contrary, it hews it into two ; — into 
the immediate knowledge by me, and into the existence of 
something different from me ; — or more briefly, into the intuition 
and the existence. It separates, in its explanation, what is given 
it to explain as united. This procedure is, at best, monstrous ; 
but tlfis is not the worst. The entire phoenomenon being cut in 
two, you will observe how the fragments are treated. The 
existence of the Non-ego, — the one fragment, it admits ; its 
intuition, its immediate cognition by the Ego, — the other frag- 
ment, it disallows. Now mark what is the character of this 
proceeding. The former fragment of the phaenomenon, — the 
fragment admitted, to us exists only through the other fragment 



860 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 

which is rejected. The existence of an external world is only 
given us through its intuition ; — we only believe it to exist 
because we believe that we immediately know it to exist, or are 
conscious of it as existing. The intuition is the ratio cognos- 
cendij and, therefore, to us the ratio essendi, of a material 
universe. Prove to me that I am wrong in regard to my 
intuition of an outer world, and I will grant at once, that I 
have no ground for supposing I am right in regard to the 
existence of that world. To annihilate the intuition, is to anni- 
hilate what is prior and constitutive in the phsenomenon ; and 
to annihilate what is prior and constitutive in the phsenomenon, 
is to annihilate the phaenomenon altogether. The existence of 
a material world is no longer, therefore, even a truncated, 
even a fractional, fact of consciousness ; for the fact of the 
existence of a material world, given in consciousness, neces- 
sarily vanished with the fact of the intuition on which it rested. 
The absurdity is about the same as if we should attempt to 
explain the existence of color, on an hypothesis which denied 
the existence of extension. A representative perception is thus 
an hypothetical explanation of a supposititious fact ; it creates 
the nature it interprets.^ 

In the Jlfth place, the fact which a legitimate hypothesis ex- 
plains, must be within the sphere of experience ; but the fact of 
an external world, for which the Cosmothetic Idealist would 
account, transcends, ex hypothesis all experience, being unknown 
in itself, and a mere hyperphysical assumption. 

The hypothesis must he single, — In the sixth place, an hypoth- 
esis is probable in proportion as it works simply and naturally ; 
that is, in proportion as it is dependent on no subsidiary hypothe- 

^ [With the Hypothetical Realist or Cosmothetic Idealist, it has been a 
puzzling problem to resolve how, on their doctrine of a representative percep- 
tion, the mind can attain the notion of externality, or outness, — far more, 
be impressed with the invincible belief of the reality, and known reality, of 
an external world. Their attempts at this solution are as unsatisfactory 
as they are operose. On the doctrine of an intuitive perception, all this is 
given in the fact of an immediate knowledge of the Non-ego. To us, 
therefore, the problem does not exist.] 



THE KEPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 361 

sis, — as it involves nothing petitory, occult, supernatural, as 
part and parcel of its explanation. In this respect, the doctrine 
of a repi*esentative perception is not less vicious than in others ; 
to explain at all, it must not only postulate subsidiary hypothe- 
ses, but subsidiary miracles. The doctrine in question attempts 
to explain the knowledge of an unknown world, by the ratio 
of a representative perception : but it is impossible, by any 
conceivable relation, to apply the ratio to the facts. The mental 
modification, of which, on the doctrine of representation, we 
are exclusively conscious in perception, either represents a real 
external world, or it does not. The latter is a confession 
of absolute Idealism ; we have, therefore, only to consider the 
former. 

The hypothesis of a representative perception supposes, that 
the mind does not know the external world, which it represents ; 
for this hypothesis is expressly devised only on the supposed 
impossibility of an immediate knowledge of aught different 
from, and external to, the mind. The percipient mind must, 
therefore, be, somehow or other, determined to represent the 
reality of which it is ignorant. Now, here one of two alterna- 
tives is necessary ; — either the mind blindly determines itself 
to this representation, or it is determined to it by some intelK- 
gent and knowing cause different from itself. The former 
alternative would be preferable, inasmuch as it is the more 
simple, and assumes nothing hyperphysical, were it not irrational, 
as wholly incompetent to account for the phasnomenon. On this 
alternative, we should suppose, that the mind represented, and 
truly represented, that of whose existence and qualities it knew 
nothing. A great effect is here assumed, absolutely without a 
cause ; for we could as easily conceive the external world 
springing into existence without a Creator, as mind representing 
that external world to itself without a knowledge of that which it 
represented. The manifest absurdity of this first alternative has 
accordingly constrained the profoundest Cosmothetic Idealists 
to call in supernatural aid by embracing the second. To say 
nothing of less illustrious schemes, the systems of Divine Assist- 
ance, of a Preestablished Harmony, and of the Vision of aU 

31 



362 THE REPRESENTATIVE HYPOTHESIS REFUTED. 

things in the Deity, are only so many subsidiary hypotheses ; — • 
so many attempts to bridge, by supernatural machinery, the 
chasm between the representation and the reality, which all 
human ingenuity had found, by natural means, to be insuperable. 
The hypothesis of a representative perception thus presupposes 
a miracle to let it work. Dr. Brown and others, indeed, reject, 
as unphilosophical, these hyperphysical subsidiaries ; but they 
only saw less clearly the necessity for their admission. The 
rejection, indeed, is another inconsequence added to their doc- 
trine. It is undoubtedly true that, without necessity, it is 
unphilosophical to assume a miracle ; but it is doubly unphilo- 
sophical first to originate this necessity, and then not to submit 
to it. It is a contemptible philosophy that eschews the Deus ex 
machina^ and yet ties the knot which can only be loosed by his 
interposition. Nor will it here do for the Cosmothetic Idealist 
to pretend that the difficulty is of nature's, not of his, creation. 
In fact, it only arises, because he has closed his eyes upon the 
light of nature, and refused the guidance of consciousness : but 
having swamped himself in following the ignis fatuus of a 
theory, he has no right to refer its private' absurdities to the 
imbecility of human reason, or to excuse his self-contracted 
ignorance by the narrow limits of our present knowledge. 

So much for the merits of the hypothesis of a Representative 
Perception, — an hypothesis which begins by denying the 
veracity of consciousness, and ends, when carried to its legiti- 
mate issue, in absolute Idealism, in utter Scepticism. This hy- 
pothesis has been, and is, one more universally prevalent among 
philosophers than any other ; and I have given to its consider- 
ation a larger share of attention than I should otherwise have 
done, in consequence of its being one great source of the dis- 
sensions in philosophy, and of the opprobrium thrown on con- 
sciousness as the instrument of philosophical observation and 
the standard of philosophical certainty and truth. 



CHAPTER XX. 

THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — GENERAL QUESTIONS RE- 
LATING TO THE SENSES. — PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND 
TOUCH. 

With this terminates the most important of the discussions 
to which the Faculty of Perception gives rise : the other ques- 
tions are not, however, without interest, though their determin- 
ation does not affect the vital interests of philosophy. 

Whether we jirst obtain a knowledge of the whole^ or of the 
parts, — Of these the first that I shall touch upon is the problem, 
— Whether, in Perception, do we first obtain a general knowl- 
edge of the complex wholes presented to us by sense, and then, 
by analysis and limited attention, obtain a special knowledge of 
their several parts ; or do we not first obtain a particular knowl- 
edge of the smallest parts to which sense is competent, and 
then, by synthesis, collect them into greater and greater wholes ? 

The second alternative in this question is adopted by Mr 
Stewart ; it is, indeed, involved in his doctrine in regard to At 
tention, — in holding that we recollect nothing without attention, 
that we can attend only to a single object at once, which one 
object is the very smallest that is discernible through sense. 
He says [see pp. 162, 163], that, in a concert of music, "the 
mind is constantly varying its attention from the one part of 
the music to the other, and that its operations are so rapid aa 
to give us no perception of an interval of time." 

" The same dbctrine leads to some curious conclusions with 
respect to vision. It is impossible for the mind to attend to 
more than one of the points [in the outline of an object] ai 
once ; and as the perception of the figure of the object imphe^* 

(363j 



364 QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. 

a knowledge of the relative situation of the different points 
with respect to each other, we must conclude, that the percep- 
tion of figure by the eye is the result of a number of different 
acts of attention. These acts of attention, however, are per- 
formed with such rapidity, that the effect with respect to us, is 
the same as if the perception were instantaneous. If these 
observations be admitted, it will follow, that, without the faculty 
of memory, vfe could have had no perception of visible figure." 

MllVs doctrine of Association, — The same conclusion is at- 
tained, through a somewhat different process, by Mr. James 
Mill. This author, following Hartley and Priestley, has pushed 
the principle of Association to an extreme which refutes its own 
exaggeration, — analyzing not only our belief in the relation of 
effect and cause into that principle, but even the primary logi- 
cal laws. According to Mr. Mill, the necessity under which 
we lie of thinking that one contradictory excludes another, — 
that a thing cannot at once be and not be, is only the result of 
association and custom. It is not, therefore, to be marvelled at, 
that he should account for our knowledge of complex wholes in 
perception by the same universal principle ; and this he accord- 
ingly does. " Where two or more ideas have been often re- 
peated together, and the association has become very strong, 
they sometimes spring up in such close combination as not to be 
distinguishable. Some cases of sensation are analogous. For 
example ; when a wheel, on the seven parts of which the seven 
prismatic colors are respectively painted, is made to revolve 
rapidly, it appears not of seven colors, but of one uniform color, 
white. By the rapidity of the succession, the several sensations 
cease to be distinguishable ; they run, as it were, together, and 
a new sensation, compounded of all the seven, but apparently a 
simple one, is the result. Ideas, also, which have been so often 
conjoined, that whenever one exists in the mind, the others- im- 
mediately exist along with it, seem to run into one anofher, to 
coalesce, as it were, and out of many to form one idea ; which 
idea, however in reality complex, appears to be no less simple 
than any one of those of which it is compounded." 

" It is to this great law of Association that we trace the for- 



QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. 865 

mation of our ideas of what we call external objects ; that is, the 
ideas of a certain number of sensations, received together so 
frequently that they coalesce as it were, and are spoken of under 
the idea of unity. Hence, what we call the idea of a tree, the 
idea of a stone, the idea of a horse, the idea of a man. 

"In using the names, tree, horse, man, the names of what I 
call objects, I am referring, and can be referring, only to my 
own sensations ; in fact, therefore, only naming a certain num- 
ber of sensations, regarded as in a particular state of combina- 
tion ; that is, concomitance. Particular sensations of sight, of 
touch, of the muscles, are the sensations, to the ideas of which, 
color, extension, roughness, hardness, smoothness, taste, smell, 
so coalescing as to appear one idea, I give the name, idea of a 
tree." 

" Some ideas are, by frequency and strength of association, so 
closely combined, that they cannot be separated. If one exists, 
the other exists along with it, in spite of whatever effort we 
make to disjoin them. 

" For example ; it is not in our power to think of color, with- 
out thinking of extension ; or of solidity, without figure. We 
have seen color constantly in combination with extension, — 
spread, as it were, upon a surface. We have never seen it except 
in this connection. Color and extension have been invariably con- 
joined. The idea of color, therefore, uniformly comes into the 
mind, bringing that of extension along with it ; and so close is 
the association, that it is not in our power to dissolve it. We 
cannot, if we will, think of color, but in combination with exten- 
sion. The one idea calls up the other, and retains it, so long as 
the other is retained." 

This doctrine implies that we know the parts better than the 
whole, — Now, in opposition to this doctrine, nothing appears to 
me clearer than the first alternative, — and that, in place of as- 
cending upwards from the minimum of perception to its maxi- 
ma, we descend from masses to details. If the opposite doctrine 
were correct, what would it involve ? It would involve, as a 
primary inference, that, as we know the whole through the parts, 
we should know the parts better than the whole. Thus, for ex- 

31* 



366 QUESTIONS RESPECTING THE SENSES. 

ample, it is supposed that we know tlie face of a friend through 
the multitude of perceptions which we have of the different 
points of which it is made up ; in other words, that we should 
know the whole countenance less vividly than we know the 
forehead and eyes, the nose and mouth, etc., and that we should 
know each of these more feebly than we know the various ulti- 
mate points, in fact, unconscious minima, of perceptions, which 
go to constitute them. According to the doctrine in question, 
we perceive- only one of these ultimate points at the same i di- 
stant, the others by memory incessantly renewed. Now let us 
take the face out of perception into memory altogether. Let 
us close our eyes, and let us represent in imagination the coun- 
tenance of our friend. This we can do with the utmost vivac- 
ity ; or, if we see a picture of it, we can determine, with a con- 
sciousness of the most perfect accuracy, that the portrait is like 
or unlike. It cannot, therefore, be denied that we have the 
fullest knowledge of the face as a whole, — that we are familiar 
with its expression, with the general result of its parts. On the 
hypothesis, then, of Stewart and Mill, how accurate should be 
our knowledge of these parts themselves. But make the exper- 
iment. You will find that, unless you have analyzed, — unless 
you have descended from a conspectus of the whole face to a 
detailed examination of its parts, - — with a most vivid impres- 
sion of the constituted whole, you are almost totally ignorant of 
the constituent parts. You may probably be unable to say what 
is the color of the eyes, and if you attempt to delineate the 
mouth or nose, you will inevitably fail. Or look at the portrait. 
You may find it unlike, but unless, as I said, you have analyzed 
the countenance, unless you have looked at it with the analytic 
scrutiny of a painter's eye, you will assuredly be unable to say 
in what respect the artist has failed ; — you will be unable to 
specify what constituent he has altered, though you are fully 
conscious of the fact and effect of the alteration. What = we 
'have shown from this example may equally be done from any 
other, — a house, a tree, a landscape, a concert of music, etc. 
But it i? needless to multiply illustrations. In fact, on the doc- 
trine of these philosoDher^j. if the mind, as they maintain, were 



THE SENSE OF TOUCH. ,Sr.7 

unable to comprehend more than one perceptible minimum at a 
time, the greatest of all inconceivable marvels would be, how it 
has contrived to realize the knowledge of wholes and masses 
which it has. Another refutation of this opinion might be 
drawn from the doctrine of latent modifications, — the obscure 
perceptions of Leibnitz, — of which we have recently treated. 
But this argument I think unnecessary. 

Resuming consideration of the more important psychological 
questions that have been agitated concerning the Senses, I pro- 
ceed to take up those connected with the sense of Touch. Tlie 
problems which arise under this sense may be reduced to two 
opposite questions. The first asks. May not all the Senses be 
analyzed into Touch? The second asks, Is not Touch or 
Feeling, considered as one of the five senses, itself only a bun- 
dle of various senses? 

May all the Senses he analyzed into Touch'? — In regard to 
the first of these questions, — it is an opinion as old at least as 
Democritus, and one held hj many of the ancient physiologists, 
that the four senses of Sight, Hearing, Taste, and Smell are 
only modifications of Touch. This opinion Aristotle records in 
the fourth chapter of his book On Sense and the Object of 
Sense^ and contents himself with refuting it by the assertion 
that its impossibility is manifest. So far, however, from being 
manifestly impossible, and, therefore, manifestly absurd, it can 
now easily be shown to be correct, if hy Touch is understood the 
contact of the external object of perception with the organ of 
sense. The opinion of Democritus was revived, in modern, 
times, by Telesius, an Italian philosopher of the sixteenth cen- 
tury, and who preceded Bacon and Descartes, as a reformer of 
philosophical methods. I say the opinion of Democritus can 
easily be shown to be correct ; for it is only a confusion of ideas, 
or of words, or of both together, to talk of the perception of a 
distant object, that is, of an object not in relation to our senses. 
An external object is only perceived inasmuch as it is in rela- 
tion to our sense, and it is only in relation to our sense inasmuch 
as it is present to it. To say, for example, that we perceive by 
Bight the sun or moon, is a false or an elliptical expression. We 



368 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 

perceive nothing but certain modifications of light in immediat<i 
relation to our organ of vision ; and so far from Dr. Reid being 
pMlosophicall J correct, when he says that " when ten men look 
at the sun or moon, they all see the same individual object," the 
te-uth is, that each of these persons sees a different object, 
because, each person sees a different complement of rays, in 
relation to his individual organ. In fact, if we look alternately 
with each, we have a different object in our right, and a differ- 
ent object in our left, eye. It is not by perception, but by a 
process of reasoning, that we connect the objects of sense with 
existences beyond the sphere of immediate knowledge. It is 
enough that perception affords us the knowledge of the Non-ego 
at the point of sense. To arrogate to it the power of immedi- 
ately informing us of external things, which are only the causes 
of the object we immediately perceive, is either positively erro- 
neous, or a confusion of language, arising from an inadequate 
discrimination of the phasnomena. Such assumptions tend only 
to throw discredit on the doctrine of an intuitive perception ; 
and such assumptions you will find scattered over the works both 
of Heid and Stewart. I would, therefore, establish as a funda- 
mental position of the doctrine of an immediate perception, the 
opinion of Democritus, that all our senses are only modifications 
of touch ; in other words, that the external object of perception, 
is always in contact with the organ of sense. 

Does Touch comprehend a plurality of senses ? — This deter- 
mination of the first problem does not interfere with the con- 
•sideration of the second ; for, in the second, it is only asked, 
Whether, considering Touch or Feeling as a special sense, there 
are not comprehended under it varieties of perception and 
sensation so different, that these varieties ought to be viewed as 
constituting so many special senses. This question, I think, 
ought to be answered in the affirmative ; for, though I hold 
that the other senses are not to be discriminated from Touch, in 
so far as Touch signifies merely the contact of the organ and 
the object of perception, yet, considering Touch as a special 
sense distinguished from the other four by other anrl peculiar 
characters, it may easily, I think, be shown, that if Sight and 



THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 369 

Hearing, if Smell and Taste, arc to be divided from each other 
and from Touch Proper, under Touch there must, on the same 
analogy, be distinguished a plurality of special senses. This 
problem, like the other, is of ancient date. It is mooted by 
Aristotle in the eleventh chapter of the second book De Am'ma, 
but his opinion is left doubtful. Among modern philosophers, 
'Cardan distinguis-hes four senses of touch or feeling; one, of 
the four primary tactile qualities of Aristotle (that is, of cold 
and hot, and wet and dry) ; a second, of the light and heavy ; 
a third, of pleasure and pain ; and a fourth, of titillation. His 
antagonist, the elder Scaliger, distinguished as a sixth special 
sense the sexual appetite, in which he has been followed by 
Bacon, VoUaire, and others. - From these historical notices, you 
will see how marvellously incorrect is the statement that Locke 
was the first philosopher who originated this question, in allow- 
ing hunger and thirst to be the sensations of a sense different 
from tactile feeling. Hutcheson, in his work on the Passions, 
says, "the division of our external senses into five common 
classes is ridiculously imperfect. Some sensations, such as 
hunger and thirst, weariness and sickness, can be reduced to 
none of them; or if they are reduced to feelings, they are per- 
ceptions as different from the other ideas of touch, such as cold, 
heat, hardness, softness, as the ideas of taste or smell." Adam 
Smith, in his posthumous Essays^ observes that hunger and 
thirst are objects of feeling, not of touch ; and that heat and 
cold are felt not as pressing on the organ, but as in the organ. 
Kant divides the whole bodily senses into two, — into a Vital 
Sense and an Organic Sense. To the former class belong the 
sensations of heat and cold, shuddering, quaking, etc. The lat- 
ter is divided into the five senses, of Touch Proper, Sight, 
Hearing, Taste, and Smell. 

This division has now become general in Germany, the Vital 
Sense receiving from various authors various synonyms, as 
ccencESthesis, common feeling, vital feeling, and sense of feeling, 
sensu latiori, etc. ; and the sensations attributed to it are heat 
and cold, shuddering, feeling of health, hunger and thirst, visce- 
ral sensations, etc. This division. is, Hkewise, adopted by Dr. 



370 THE SENSE OF TOUCH. 

Brown. He divides our sensations into those which are less 
definite,, and into those which are more definite ; and these, his 
two classes, corr(ispond precisely to the sensus vagus and sensus 
jftxus of the German philosophers. 

Touch distinguished from sensible feeling, — The propriety 
of throwing out of the sense of Touch those sensations which 
afford us indications only of the subjective condition of the body, 
in other words, of dividing touch from sensible feeling, is ap- 
parent. In the frst place, this is manifest on the analogy of 
the other special senses. These, as we have seen, are divided 
into two classes, according as Perception proper or Sensation 
proper predominates ; the senses of Sight and Hearing pertaining 
to the first, those of Smell and Taste to the second. Here each 
is decidedly either perceptive or sensitive. But in Touch, under 
the vulgar attribution of qualities. Perception and Sensation both 
find their maximum. At the finger-point's, this sense would 
give us objective knowledge of the outer world, with the least 
possible alloy of subjective feeling ; in hunger and thirst, etc., 
on the contrary, it would afford us a subjective feeling of our 
own state, with the least possible addition of objective knowledge. 
On this ground, therefore, we ought to attribute to different 
senses perceptions and sensations so different in degree. 

But, in the second place, it is not merely in the opposite degree 
of these two counter elements that this distinction is to be founded, 
but likewise on the different quality of the groups of the per- 
ceptions and sensations themselves. There is nothing similar 
between these different groups, except the negative circumstance 
that there is no special organ to which positively to refer them ; 
and, therefore, they are exclusively slumped together under that 
sense which is not obtrusively marked out and isolated by the 
mechanism of a peculiar instrument. 

Touch, — its sphere and organic seat. — Limiting, therefore, 
the special sense of Touch. to that of objective information, it is 
sufficient to say that this sense has its seat at the extremity of 
the nerves which terminate in the skin ; its principal organs are 
the finger-points, the toes, the lips, and the tongue. Of these, 
the first is the most perfect. At the tips of the fingers, a tender 



TERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT A.ND TOUCH. • 371 

skin covers the nervous papillae ; and here the nail server not 
only as a protecting shield to the organ, but, likewise, by afford- 
ing an opposition to the body which makes an impression on 
the finger-ends, it renders more distinct our perception of the 
nature of its surface. Tin ough the great mobility of the fingers, 
of the wrist, and of the shoulder-joint, we are able with one, 
and still more effectually, with both hands, to manipulate an 
object on all sides, and thereby to attain a knowledge of its 
figure. We likewise owe to the sense of Touch a perception of 
those conformations of a body, according to which we call it 
rough or smooth, hard or soft, sharp or blunt. The repose or 
motion of a body is also perceived through the touch. 

To obviate misunderstanding, I should, however, notice that 
the proper organ of Touch — the nervous papillae — requires, as 
the condition of its exercise, the movement of the voluntary 
muscles. This condition, however, ought not to be viewed as a 
part of the organ itself. This being understood, the perception 
of the weight of a body will not fall under this sense, as the 
nerves lying under the epidermis or scurf skin have little or no 
share in this knowledge. We owe it, almost exclusively, to the 
consciousness we have of the exertion of the muscles, requisite 
to lift with the hand a heavy body from the ground, or when it 
is laid on the shoulders or head, to keep our own body erect, and 
to carry the burden from one place to another. 

I next proceed to consider two counter-questions, which are 
still agitated by philosophers. The first is, — Does Sight afford 
us an original knowledge of extension, or do we not owe this 
exclusively to Touch ? The second is, — Does Touch afford us 
an original knowledge of extension, or do we not owe this ex- 
clusively to Sight ? Both questions are still undetermined ; and, 
consequently, the vulgar belief is also unestablished, that we ob- 
tain a knowledge of extension originally both from sight and touch. 

I commence, then, with the first, — Does Vision afford us a 
'primary knowledge of extension, or do we not owe this knowl- 
edge exclusively to Touch? But, before entering on its dis- 
cussion, it is proper to state to you, by preamble, what kind of 
extension it is that those would vindicate to sight, who answer 



672 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 

this question in the aifirmative. The whole primary objects of 
sight, then, are colors, and extensions, and forms or figures of 
extension. And here you will observe, it is not all kind of 
extension and form that is attributed to sight. It is not figured 
extension in all the three dimensions, but only extension as 
involved in plane figures ; that is, only length and breadth. 

It has generally been admitted by philosophers, after Aris- 
totle, that color is the proper object of sight, and that extension 
and figure, common to sight and touch, are only accidentally its 
objects, because supposed in the perception of color. The first 
philosopher, with whom I am acquainted, who doubted or denied 
that vision is conversant with extension, was Berkeley. [Con- 
dlllac also, at one time,] maintained the same opinion. This, 
however, he did not do either very explicitly or without change.* 
Mr. Stewart maintains that extension is not an object of sight. 
"I formerly/' he says, "had occasion to mention several in- 
stances of very intimate associations formed between two ideas 
which have no necessary connection with each other. One of 
the most remarkable is, that which exists in every person's 
mind between the notions of color and extension. The former 
of these words expresses (at least in the sense in which we 
commonly employ it) a sensation in the mind, the latter denotes 
a quality of an external object ; so that there is, in fact, no 
more connection between the two notions than between those of 
pain and of solidity; and yet, in consequence of our always 
perceiving extension at the same time at which the sensation of 
color is excited in the mind, we find it impossible to think of 

^ Neither Condillac nor Berkeley goes so far as to say, that color, re- 
garded as an affection of the visual organism, is apprehended as absolutely 
unextended, as a mathematical point. Nor is this the question in dispute. 
But granting, as Condillac in his later view expressly asserts, that color, as 
a visual sensation, necessarily occupies space, do we, by means of that 
sensation, acquire also the proper idea of extension, as composed of parts 
exterior to each other 1 In other words, does the sensation of different 
colors, which is necessary to the distinction of parts at all, necessarily sug- 
gest different and contiguous localities ? This question is explicitly an- 
swered in the negative by Condillac, and in the affirmative by Sir W. 
Hamilton. — English Ed. 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND rOUCII. 873 

that sensation williout conceiving extension along with it.'* But 
before and after Stewart, a doctrine, virtually the same, is main- 
tained by the Hartleian school ; who assert, as a consequence 
of their universal principle of association, that the perception 
of color suggests the notion 'of extension. 

Then comes Dr. Brown, who, after having repeatedly asserted, 
that it is, and always has been, the universal opinion of philos- 
ophers, that the superficial extension of length and breadth 
becomes known to us by sight originally, proceeds, as he says, 
for the first time, to controvert this opinion ; though it is wholly 
impossible that he could have been ignorant that the same had 
been done, at least by Condillac and Stewart^ He says, " The 
universal opinion of philosophers is, that it is not color merely 
which it [the simple original sensation of vision] involves, but 
extension also, — that there is a visible figure, as well as a 
tangible figure, — and that the visible figure involves, in our 
instant original perception, superficial length and breadth, as the 
tangible figure, which we learn to see, involves length, breadth, 
and thickness. 

" That it is impossible for us, at present, to separate, in the 
sensation of vision, the color from the extension, I admit; 
though not more completely impossible than it is for us to look 
on the thousand feet of a meadow, and to perceive only the 
small inch of greenness on our retina ; and the one impossibil- 
ity, as much as the other, I conceive to arise only from intimate 
association, subsequent to the original sensations of sight. Nor 
do I deny, that a certain part of the retina — which, being lim- 
ited, must therefore have figure — is affected by the rays of 
light that fall on it, as a certain breadth of nervous expanse is 
affected in all the other organs. I contend only, that the per- 
ception of this limited figure of the portion of the retina affected 
does not enter into the sensation itself, more than, in our sensa- 
tions of any other species, there is a perception of the nervous 
breadth affected. 

" The immediate perception of visible figure has been assumed 
as indisputable, rather than attempted to be proved ; — as before 
the time of Berkeley, the iyimediate visrfal perception of dis- 

32 



574 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AI^D TOUCH. 

tance, and of the three dunensions of matter, was supposed, in 
like manner, to be without any need of proof; — and it is, there- 
fore, impossible to refer to arguments on the subject. I pre- 
sume, however, that the reasons which have led to this belief, 
of the immediate perception of a figure termed visible, as dis- 
tinguished from that tangible figure which we learn to see, are 
the following two, — the only reasons which I can even imagine ; 
— - that it is absolutely impossible, in our present sensations of 
sight, to separate color from extension, — and that there are, in fact, 
a certain length and breadth of the retina, on which the light falls." 

Summary of Brown'' s argument, — He then goes on to argue, 
at a far greater length than can be quoted, that the mere cir- 
cumstance of a certain definite space, namely, the extended 
retina, being affected by certain sensations, does not necessarily 
involve the notion of extension. Indeed, in all those cases in 
which it is supposed, that a certain diffusion of sensations ex- 
cites the notion of extension, it seems to be taken for granted 
that the being knows already, that he has an extended body, 
over which these sensations are thus diffused. Nothing but the 
sense of touch, however, and nothing but those kinds of touch 
which imply the idea of continued resistance, can give us any 
notion of body at all. All mental affections which are regarded 
merely as feelings of the mind, and which do not give us a con- 
ception of their external causes, can never be known to arise 
from any thing which is extended or solid. So far, however, is 
the mere sensation of color from being able to produce this, that 
touch itself, as felt in many of its modifications, could give us no 
idea of it. That the sensation of color is quite unfit to gi\e us 
any idea of extension, merely by its being diffused over a cer- 
tain expanse of the retina, seems to be corroborated by what 
we experience in the other senses, even after we are perfectly 
acquainted with the notion of extension. In hearing, for. in- 
stance, a certain quantity of the tympanum of the ear must be 
affected by the pulsations of the air ; yet it gives us no idea of 
the dimensions of the part affected. The same may, in general, 
be said of taste and smell. 

Proof that sight takes cognizance, of extension. — Now, in all 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 375 

their elaborate argumentation on this subject, these philosophers 
seem never yet to have seen the real difficulty of their doctrine. 
It can easily be shown that the perception of color involves the 
perception of extension. All parties are, of course, at pne in 
reirard to the fact that we see color. Those who hold that we 
see extension, admit that we see it only as colored ; and those 
who deny us any vision of extension, make color the exclusive 
object of sight. In regard to this first position, all are, there- 
fore, agreed. Nor are they less harmonious in regard to the 
second ; — that the power of perceiving color involves the power 
of perceiving the differences of colors. By sight we, therefore, 
perceive color, and discriminate one color, that is, one colored 
body, — one sensation of color, from another. This is admitted. 
A third position will also be denied by none, that the colors dis- 
criminated in vision are, or may be, placed side by side in im- 
mediate juxtaposition ; or, one may limit another by being 
superinduced partially over it. A fourth position is equally in- 
disputable, — that the contrasted colors, thus bounding each 
other, will form by their meeting a visible line, and that, if the 
superinduced color be surrounded by the other, this line will 
return upon itself, and thus constitute the outline of a visible 
figure. 

These four positions command a peremptory assent; they are 
all self-evident. But their admission at once explodes the para- 
dox under discussion. And thus : a line is extension in one 
dimension, — length; a figure is extension in two, — length and 
breadth. Therefore, the vision of a line is a vision of extension 
in length ; the vision of a figure, the vision of extension in length 
and breadth. This is an immediate demonstration of the impos- 
sibility of the opinion in question ; and it is curious that the in- 
genuity, which suggested to its supporters the petty and recon- 
dite objections they have so operosely combated, should not have 
shown them this gigantic difficulty, which lay obtrusively before 
them. 

Extension caniiot be imagined except as coloi^ed and shaped. — 
So far, in fact, is the doctrine which divorces the perceptions 
of color and extension ^rom being true, that we cannot even 



376 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 

represent extension to the mind except as colored. When we 
come to the consideration of the Representative FacuUy, — Im- 
agination, — I shall endeavor to show you (what has not been 
observed by psychologists), that in the representation, — in the 
imagination of sensible objects, we always represent them in the 
organ of Sense through which we originally perceived them. 
Thus, we cannot imagine any particular odor but in the nose ; 
nor any sound but in the ear ; nor any taste but in the mouth : 
and if we would represent any pain we have ever felt, this can 
only be done through the local nerves. In like manner, when 
we imagine any modification of light we do so in the eye ; and 
it is a curious confirmation of this, as is well known to physiol- 
ogists, that when not only the external apparatus of the eye, 
which is a mere mechanical instrument, but the real organ of 
sight, — the optic nerves and their thalami, have become dis- 
eased, the patient loses, in proportion to the extent of the mor- 
bid affection, either wholly or in part, the faculty of recalling 
visible phgenomena to his mind. I mention this at present in 
order to show, that Vision is not only a sense competent to the 
perception of extension, but the sense xar' t^opjv, if* not exclu- 
sively, sO competent, — and this in the following manner : You 
either now know, or will hereafter learn, that no notion, whether 
native and general, or adventitious and generalized, can be rep- 
resented in imagination, except in a concrete or singular exam- 
ple. For instance, you cannot imagine a triangle which is not 
either an equilateral, or an isosceles, or a scalene, — in short, 
some individual form of a triangle ; nay, more, you cannot im- 
agine it, except either large or small, on paper, or on a board, 
of wood or of iron, white or black or green ; in short, except 
under all the special determinations which give it, in thought, as 
in existence, singularity and individuality. The same happens, 
too, with extension. Space I admit to be a native form of 
thought, — not an adventitious notion. "We cannot but think it. 
Yet I cannot actually represent space in imagination, stript of all 
individualizing attributes. In this act, I can easily annihilate 
all corporeal existence, — I can imagine empty space. But 
there are two attributes of which I cannot divest it, that is, 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 377 

shape and color. This may sound almost ridiculous at first 
statement ; but if you attend to the phaenomenon, you will soon 
be satisfied of its truth. And first as to shape. Your minds are 
not infinite, and cannot, therefore, positively conceive infinite 
space. Infinite space is only conceived negatively, — only by 
conceiving it inconceivable ; in other words, it cannot be con- 
ceived at all. But if we do our utmost to realize this notion of 
infinite extension by a positive act of imagination, hoAV do we 
proceed ? Why, w^e think out from a centre, and endeavor to 
carry the circumference of the sphere to infinity. But by no 
one effort of imagination can w^e accomplish this ; and as we can- 
not do it at once by one infinite act, it would require an eternity 
of successive finite efforts, — an endless series of imaginings 
beyond imaginings, to equalize the thought with its object. The 
very attempt is contradictory. But when we leave off, has the 
imagined space a shape ? It has : for it is finite ; and a finite, 
that is, a bounded, space, constitutes a figure. What, then, is 
this figure ? It is spherical, — necessarily spherical ; for as the 
effort of imagining space is an effort outwards from a centre, 
the space represented in imagination is necessarily circular. If 
there be no shape, there has been no positive imagination ; and 
for any other shape than the orbicular, no reason can be as- 
signed. Such is the figure of space in a free act of phantasy. 

This, however, will be admitted without scruple ; for if real 
space, as it is well described by St. Augustin, be a sphere whose 
centre is everywhere, and whose circumference is nowhere, im- 
agined space may be allowed to be a sphere whose circumfer- 
ence is represented at any distance from its centre. But v/ill its 
color be as easily allowed? In explanation of this, you will 
observe, that under color, I of course include black as well as 
white ; the transparent as well as the opaque, — in short, any 
modification of light or darkness. This being understood, I main- 
tain that it is impossible to imagine figure, extension, space, ex- 
cept as colored in some determinate mode. You may represent il 
under any, but you must represent it under some, modification 
of light, — color. Make the experiment, and you will find I aui 
correct. But I anticipate an objection Th«^Mioivperception of 

32* 



378 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 

color, or the inability of discriminating colors, is a case of not 
unfrequent occurrence, though the subjects of this deficiency are, 
at the same time, not otherwise defective in vision. In cases of 
this description, there is, however, necessarily a discrimination 
of light and shade; and the colors that to us appear in all "the 
sevenfold radiance of effulgent light," to them appear only as 
different gradations of clare-obscure. Were this not the case, 
there could be no vision. Such persons, therefore, have still 
two great contrasts of color, — black and white, and an indefinite 
number of intermediate gradations, in which to represent space 
to their imaginations. Nor is there any difficulty in the case of 
the blind, the absolutely blind, — the blind from birth. Blind- 
ness is the non -perception of color ; the non-perception of color 
is simple darkness. The space, therefore, represented by the 
blind, if represented at . all, will be represented black. Some 
modification of ideal light or darkness is thus the condition of 
the imagination of space. This of itself powerfully supports 
the doctrin,e, that vision is conversant with extension as its ob- 
ject. But if the opinion I have stated be correct, that an act 
of imagination is only realized through some organ of sense, the 
impossibility of representing space out of all relation to light 
and color at once establishes the eye as the appropriate sense of 
extension and figure. 

jyAlembert on seeing extension, — In corroboration of the 
general view I have taken of the relation of Sight to extension, 
I may translate to you a passage by a distinguished mathema- 
tician and philosopher, who, in writing it, probably had in his 
eye the paradoxical speculation of Condillac. " It is certain," 
says D' Alembert, " that sight alone, and independently of touch, 
affords us the idea of extension ; for extension is the necessary 
object of vision, and we should see nothing if we did not see it 
extended. I even believe that sight must give us the notion of 
extension more readily than touch, because sight makes us re- 
mark more promptly and perfectly than touch, that contiguity, 
and, at the same time, that distinction, of* parts in which exten- 
sion consists. Moreover, vision alone gives us the idea of the 
color of objects. Let us suppose now parts of space differently 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 370 

colored, and presented to our eyes ; the difference of colors wiU 
necessarily cause us to observe the boundaries or limits which 
separate two neighboring colors, and, consequently, will give us 
an idea of figure; for we conceive a figure when we conceive a 
limitation or boundary on all sides." 

I am confident, therefore, that we may safely establish the 
conclusion, that Sight is a sense principally conversant with ex- 
tension ; whether it be the only sense thus conversant, remains 
to be considered. 

Does Touch afford us an original knowledge of extension, — 
I proceed, therefore, to the second of the counter-problems, — 
to inquire whether Sight be exclusively the sense which affords 
us a knowledge of extension, or whether it does this only con- 
junctly with Touch. As some philosophers have denied to vision 
all perception of extension and figure, and given this solely to 
touch, so others have equally refused this perception to touch, 
and accorded it exclusively to vision. 

This doctrine is maintained among others by Platner, — a 
man no less celebrated as an acute philosopher, than as a learned 
physician, and an elegant scholar. . I shall endeavor to render 
his philosophical German into intelligible English, and translate 
some of the preliminary sentences with which he introduces a 
curious observation by him on a blind subject. " It is very true, 
as my acute antagonist observes, that the gloomy extension 
which imagination presents to us as an actual object, is by no 
means the pure a priori representation of space. It is very 
true, that this is only an empirical or adventitious image, whicl 
itself supposes the pure or a 'priori notion of space (or of ex- 
tension), in other words, the necessity to think every thing as 
extended. But I did not wish to explain the origin of this 
mental condition or form of thought objectively, through the 
sense of sight, but only to say this much : — that empirical space, 
empirical extension, is dependent on the sense of sight, — that, 
allowing space or extension, as a form of thought, to be in us, 
were there even nothing correspondent to it out of us, still the 
unknown external things must operate upon us, and, in fact, 
through the sense of sight, do operate upon us, if this uncon- 
scious form is to be brought into consciousness." 



380 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 

And after some other observations he goes on : " In regard 
to the ^isionless representation of space or extension, — the 
attentive observation of a person born bhnd, which I formerly 
instituted, in the year 1785, and, again, in relation to the point 
in question, have continued for three whole weeks, — this obser- 
vation, I say, has convinced me, that the sense of touch, by 
itself, is altogether incompetent to afford us the representation 
of extension and space, and is not even cognizant of local ex- 
teriority ; in a word, that a man deprived of sight has absolutely 
no perception of an outer world, beyond the existence of some- 
thing effective, different from his own feeling of passivity, and 
in general only of the numerical diversity, — shall I say, of 
impressions, or of things? In fact, to those born blind, time 
serves instead of space. Vicinity and distance means in their 
mouths nothing more than the shorter or longer time, the smaller 
or greater number of feelings, which they find necessary to 
attain from some one feeling to some other. That a person 
blind from birth employs the language of vision, — that may 
occasion considerable error, and did, indeed, at the commence- 
ment of my observations, lead me wrong ; but, in point of fact, 
he knows nothing of things as existing out of each other ; and 
(this in particular I have very clearly remarked), if objects, 
and the parts of his body touched by them, did not make differ- 
ent kinds of impression on his nerves of sensation, he would 
take every thing external for one and the same. In his own 
body, he absolutely did not discriminate head and foot at all by 
their distance, but merely by the difference of the feelings (and 
his perception of such difference was incredibly fine), which he 
experienced from the one and from the other; and, moreover, 
through time. In like manner, in external bodies, he distin- 
guished their figure merely by the varieties of impressed feel- 
ings ; inasmuch, for example, as the cube, by its angles, affected 
his feeling differently from the sphere. No one can conceive 
how deceptive is the use of language accommodated to vision. 
"When ray acute antagonist appeals to Cheselden's case, which 
proves directly the reverse of what it is adduced to refute, he 
does not consider that the first visual impressions which one 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 381 

born blind receives after couching, do not constitute vision. For 
the very reason, that space and extension are empirically only 
possible through a perception of sight, — for that very reason, 
must such a patient, after his- eyes are freed from the cataract, 
lii'st learn to live in space ; if he could do this ^previously, then 
would not the distant seem to him near, — tlie separate would 
not appear to him as one. These are the grounds which make 
it impossible for me to believe empirical space in a blind person ; 
and from these I infer, that this form of sensibility, as Mr. Kant 
calls it, and which, in a certain signification, may very properly 
be styled a pure representation, cannot come into consciousness 
otherwise than through the medium of our visual perception ; 
without, however, denying that it is something merely subjective, 
or affirming that sight affords any thing similar to this kind of 
representation. The example of blind geometers would like- 
wise argue nothing against me, even if the geometers had been 
born blind ; and this they were not, if, even in their early 
infancy, they had seen a single extended object." 
. Phcenomena that support Plainer' s doctrine, ■ — To what Plai- 
ner has here stated I would add, from personal experiment and 
observation upon others, that if any one who is not blind will 
go into a room of an unusual shape, wholly unknown to him, 
and into which no ray of light is allowed to penetrate, he may 
grope about for hours, — he may touch and manipulate every 
side and corner of it ; still, notwithstanding every endeavor, — 
notwithstanding all the previous subsidiary notions he brings to 
the task, he will be unable to form any correct idea of the room. 
In like manner, a blindfolded person will make the most curious 
mistakes in regard to the figure of objects presented to him, if 
these are of any considerable circumference. But if the sense 
of touch in such favorable circumstances can effect so little, how 
much less could it afford us any knowledge of forms, if the 
assistance which it here brings with it from our visual con- 
ceptions were wholly wanting ? 

This view is, I think, strongly confirmed by the famous case 
of a young gentleman, blind from birth, couched by Cheselden ; 
— a case remarkable for being perhaps, of those cured, that in 



382 PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 

which the cataract 'was most perfect (it only allowed of a dis- 
tinction of light and darkness) ; and, at the same time, in which 
the phagnomena have been most distinctly described. In this 
latter respect, it* is, however, very deficient ; and it is saying but 
little in favor of the philosophical acumen of medical men, that 
the narrative of this case, with all its faults, is, to the present 
moment, the one most to be reHed on. 

Now I contend (though I am aware I have high authority 
against me), that if a blind man had been able to form a con- 
ception of a square or globe by mere touch, he would, on first 
perceiving them by sight, be able to discriminate them from each 
other ; for this supposes only that he had acquired the primary 
notions of a straight and of a curved line. Again, if touch 
afforded us the notion of space or extension in general, the 
patient, on obtaining sight, would certainly be able to conceive 
the possibility of space or extension beyond the actual boundary 
of his vision. But of both of these Cheselden's patient was 
found incapable. 

" Though we say of {his gentleman, that he was blind," ob^ 
serves Mr. Cheselden, " as we do of all people who have ripe 
cataracts ; yet they are never so blind from that cause but that 
they can discern day from night ; and for the most part, in a 
strong light, distinguish black, white, and scarlet ; but they 
cannot perceive the shape of any thing ; for the light by which 
these perceptions are made, being let in obliquely through the 
aqueous humor, or the anterior surface of the crystalHne (by 
which the rays cannot be brought into a focus upon the retina), 
they can discern in no other manner than a sound eye can 
through a glass of broken jelly, where a great variety of sur- 
faces so differently refract the light, that the several distinct 
pencils of rays cannot be collected by the eye into their proper 
foci ; wherefore the shape of an object in such a case cannot be 
at all discerned, though the color may; and thus it was with 
this young gentleman, who, though he knew those colors asunder 
in a good light, yet when he saw them after he was couched, the 
faint ideas he had of them before were not sufficient for him to 
know them by afterwards ; and therefore he did not think them 



PERCEPTIONS BY SIGHT AND TOUCH. 383 

the same which he Iiad before known by those names 

Wlieii he first saw, he was so far from making any judgment 
about distances, that he thought all objects whatever touched his 
eyes (as he expressed it), as what he felt did his skin ; and 
thought no objects so agreeable as those which were smooth and 
regular, though he could form no judgment of their shape, or 
guass what it was in any object that was pleasing to him. He 
knew not the shape of any thing, nor any one thing from another, 
however different in shape or magnitude : ^ but upon being told 
what tilings were, whose form he before knew from feeling, he 
would carefully observe, that he might know them again ; but 
having too many objects to learn at once, he forgot many of 
them ; and (as .he said), at first learned to know, and again forgot 
a thousand things in a day. One particular only (though it may 
appear trifling), I will relate: Having often forgot which was 
the cat, and which the dog, he was ashamed to ask ; but catch- 
ing the cat (which he knew by feeling), he was observed to look 
at her steadfastly, and then setting her down, said, ' So, puss ! I 

shall know you another time.' We thought he soon 

knew what pictures represented which were showed to him, but 
we found afterwards we were mistaken ; for about two months 
after he was couched, he discovered at once they represented 

^ [This cannot mean that he saw no difference between objects of differ- 
ent shapes and sizes ; for if this interpretation were adopted, the rest of the 
statement becomes nonsense. If he had been altogether incapable of appre- 
hending differences, it could not be said that, '' being told what things were 
whose form he before knew from feeling, he would carefully observe that 
he might know them again ; " for observation supposes the power of dis- 
crimination, and, in particular, the anecdote of the dog and cat would be 
inconceivable on that hypothesis. It is plain that Cheselden only meant to 
say, that the things which the patient could previously distinguish and 
denominate by touch, he could not now identify and refer to their appellations 
by sight. And this is what we might, a priori, be assured of. A sphere 
and a cube would certainly make different impressions on him; but it is 
probable that he could not assign to each its name, though, in this particular 
case, there is good ground for holding, that the slightest consideration would 
enable a person, previously acquainted with these figures, and aware that 
the one was a cube and the other a sphere, to connect them with liis anterior 
experience, and to discriminate them by name.] — Notes to Reid, 



684 VISUAL PERCEPTIOISr OF DISTANCE. 

solid bodies, when, to that time, he considered them only as 
parti-colored planes, or surfaces diversified with variety of paints ; 
but even then he was no less surprised, expecting the pictures 
would feel like the things they represented, and w^as amazed 
when he found those parts, which by their light and shadow 
appeared now round and uneven, felt only flat like the rest ; and 
asked which was the lying sense, feeling or seeing." 

The whole of this matter is still enveloped in great uncer- 
tainty, and I should be sorry either to dogmatize myself, or to 
advise you to form any decided opinion. Without, however, 
going the length of Platner, in denying the possibility of a 
geometer blind from birth, we may allow this, and yet vindicate 
exclusively to sight the power of affording us our empirical 
notions of space. The explanation of this supposes, however, 
an acquaintance with the doctrine of pure or a "priori space 
as a form of thought ; it must, therefore, for the present be 
deferred. 

Hoio do we 'perceive visual distance^ — The last questioi\ on 
which I shall touch, and with which I shall conclude the con- 
sideration of Perception in general, is, — How do we obtain our 
knowledge of Visual Distance ? Is this original, or acquired ? 
With regard to the method by which we judge of distance, it 
was formerly supposed to depend upon an original law of the 
constitution, and to be independent of any knowledge gained 
through the medium of the external senses. This opinion was 
attacked by Berkeley in his New Theory of Vision, one of the 
finest examples, as Dr. Smith justly observes, of philosophical 
analysis to be found in our own or in any other language ; and 
in which it appears most clearly demonstrated, that our whole 
information on this subject is acquired by experience and associ- 
ation. This conclusion is supported by many circumstances of 
frequent occurrence, in which we fall into the greatest mistakes 
with respect to the distance of objects, when we form our judg- 
ment solely from the visible impression made upon the retina, 
without attending to the other circumstances which ordinarily 
direct us in forming our conclusions. It also obtains confirmation 
from the case of Cheselden, which I have already quoted. It 



VISUAL PERCEPTION OF DISTANCE. 385 

clearly appears that, in the first instance, the patient had no 
correct ideas of distance ; and we are expressly told that he 
supposed all objects to touch the eye, until he learned to correct 
his visible, by means of his tangible, impressions, and thus grad- 
ually to acquire more correct notions of the situation of sur- 
rounding bodies with respect to his own person. 

What enables us to estimate distance, — On the hypothesis that 
our ideas of distance are acquired, it remains for us to investi- 
gate the circumstances which assist us in forming our judgment 
respecting them. We shall find that they may be arranged 
under two heads, some of them depending upon certain states 
of the eye itself, and others upon various accidents that occur 
in the appearance of the objects. With respect to distances 
that are so short as to require the adjustment of the eye in order 
to obtain distinct vision, it appears that a certain voluntary effort 
is necessary to produce the desired effect : this effort, whatever 
may be its nature, causes a corresponding sensation, the amount 
of which we learn by experience to appreciate ; and thus, through 
the medium of association, we acquire the power of estimating 
the distance with sufficient accuracy. 

When objects are placed at only a moderate distance, but not 
such as to require the adjustment of the eye, in directing the two 
eyes to the object we incline them inwards ; as is the case like- 
wise with very short distances : so that what are termed the 
axes of the eyes, if produced, would make an angle at the object, 
the angle varying inversely as the distance. Here, as in the 
former case, we have certain perceptions excited by the muscular 
efforts necessary to produce a proper inclination of the axes, and 
these we learn to associate with certain distances. As a proof 
that this is the mode by which we judge of those distances where 
the optic axes form an appreciable angle, when the eyes are both 
directed to the same object, while the effort of adjustment is 
not perceptible, — it has been remarked, that persons who are 
deprived of the sight of one eye, are incapable of forming a 
correct judgment in this case. 

When we are required to judge of still greater distances, where 
the object is so remote as that the axes of the two eyes are par- 
33 



386 VISUAL PERCEPTION OF DISTANCE. 

allel, we are no longer able to form our opinion from any sen- 
sation in the eye itself. In this case, we have recourse to a 
variety of circumstances connected with the appearance of the 
object ; for example, its apparent size, the distinctness with 
which it is seen, the vividness of its colors, the number of inter- 
vening objects, and other similar accidents, all of which obvi- 
ously depend upon previous experience, and which we are in 
the habit of associating with different distances, without, in each 
particular case, investigating the cause on which our judgment 
is founded."* 

But animals have an instinctive perception of distance, — The 
conclusions of science seem in this case to be decisive ; and yet 
the whole question is thrown into doubt by the analogy of the 
lower animals. If, in man, the perception of distance be not 
original but acquired, the perception of distance must be also 
acquired by them. But as this is not the case in regard to ani- 
mals, this confirms the reasoning of those who would explain 
the perception of distance in man as an original, not as an 
acquired, knowledge. That the Berkeleian doctrine is opposed 

* [We must be careful not, like Reid and philosophers in general, to 
confound the perceptions of mere eocternality or outness^ and the knowledge 
we may have of distance^ through the eye. The former may be, and prob- 
ably is, natural ; while the latter, in a great but unappreciable measure, is 
acquired. In the case of Cheselden — that in which the blindness previous 
to the recovery of sight was most perfect, and therefore the most instructive 
upon record — the patient, though he had little or tio perception of distancey 
i. e. of the degree of e^xternality, had still a perception of that externality 
absolutely. The objects, he said, seemed to " touch his eyes, as what he 
felt did his skin ; " but they did not appear to him as if in his eyes, far less 
as a mere affection of the organ. This natural perception of outness, which 
is the foundation of our acquired knowledge of distance, seems given us in 
the natural perception we have of the direction of the rays of light. 

In like manner, we must not confound, as is commonly done, the fact of 
the eye affording us a perception of extension and plane figure^ or outline, 
in the perception of colors, and the fact of its being the vehicle of intima- 
tions in regard to the comparative magnitude and cubical forms of the 
objects from which these rays proceed. The one is a knowledge by sense 
— natural, immediate, and infallible; the other, like that of distance, is by 
inference — acquired, mediate, and at best, always insecure]. — Notes to Reid, 



VISUAL PERCEPTION OF DISTANCE. 387 

bj the analogy of the lower animals, is admitted by one of its 
most intelligent supporters, — Dr. Adam Smith. 

" That, antecedent to all experience," says Smith, " the young 
of at least the greater part of animals possess some instinctive 
perception of this kind, seems abundantly evident. The hen 
never feeds her young by dropping the food into their bills, as 
the linnet and the thrush feed theirs. Almost as soon as her 
chickens are hatched, she does not feed them, but carries them 
to the field to feed, where they walk about at their ease, it would 
seem, and appear to have the most distinct perception of all the 
tangible objects which surround them. We may often see them, 
accordingly, by the straightest road, run to and pick up any 
little grains which she shows them, even at the distance of several 
yards ; and they no sooner come into the light than they seem 
to understand this language of Vision as well as they ever do 
afterwards. The young of the partridge and the grouse seem 
to have, at the same early period, the most distinct perceptions 
of the same kind. The young partridge, almost as soon as it 
comes from the shell, runs about among long grass and corn, the 
young grouse among long heath ; and both would most essen- 
tially hurt themselves, if they had not the most acute as well as 
distinct perception of the tangible objects, which not only sur- 
round them, but press upon them on all sides. This is the case, 
too, with the young of the goose, of the duck, and, so far as I 
have been able to observe, with those of at least the greater 
part of the birds which make their nests upon the ground, with 
the greater part of those which are ranked by Linnaeus in the 
orders of the hen and the goose, and of many of those long- 
shanked and wading birds which he places in the order that he 
distinguishes by the name of Grallae 

" It seems difficult to suppose that man is the only animal of 
which the young are not endowed with some instinctive per- 
ception of this kind. The young of the human species, however, 
continue so long in a state of entire dependency, they must be 
so long carried about in the arms of their mothers or of their 
nurses, that such an instinctive perception may seem less neces- 
sary to them than to any other race of animals. Before it could 



888 VISUAL TERCEPTION OF DISTANCE. 

bo of any use to them, observation and experience may, by the 
known principle of the association of ideas, have sufficiently 
connected in their young minds each visible object with the 
corresponding tangible one which it is fitted to represent. Na- 
ture, it may be said, never bestows upon any animal any faculty 
which is not either necessary or useful ; and an instinct of this 
kind would be altogether useless to an animal which must neces- 
sarily acquire the knowledge which the instinct is given U 
supply, long before that instinct could be of any use to it. 

Children, however, appear at so very early a period to know 
the distance, the shape, and magnitude of the different tangible 
objects which are presented to them, that I am disposed to 
believe that even they may have some instinctive perception of 
this kind ; though possibly in a much weaker degree than the 
greater part of other animals. A child that is scarcely a month 
old, stretches out its hands to feel any little plaything that is 
presented to it. It distinguishes its nurse, and the other people 
who are much about it, from strangers. It clings to the former, 
and turns away from the latter. Hold a small looking-glass 
before a child of not more than two or three months old, and it 
will stretch out its little arms behind the glass, in order to feel 
the child which it sees, and which it imagines is at the back of 
the glass. It is deceived, no doubt; but even this sort of 
deception sufficiently demonstrates, that it has a tolerably dis- 
tinct apprehension of the ordinary perspective of Vision, which 
it cannot well have learnt from observation and experience." ^ 

^ [That animals should be enabled by instinct to see as soon as they are 
born, while man, gifted with reason, is obliged to learn slowly, through ex- 
peiience, how to see, — is no more remarkable than that birds and spiders 
should be taught by instinct, without experience or instruction, how to con- 
struct their habitations and nets, while man can build neither except he has 
had opportunities to learn from others, or from his own unsuccessful efforts. 
It is the distinguishing peculiarity of instinct to learn nothing from experi- 
ence, and of reason to learn every thing from experience]. — Am. Ed, 



CHAPTEK XXI. 

THE PRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — RECAPITULATION. — II. SELF- 
CONSCIOUSNESS. 

Having concluded the consideration of External Perception, 
I may now briefly recapitulate certain results of tlie discussion, 
and state in what principal respects the doctrine I would main- 
tain, differs from that of Reid and Stewart, whom I suppose 
always to hold, in reality, the system of an Intuitive Percep- 
tion. 

l^Author^s doctrine of Perception, in contrast to that of Reidy 
Stewart, Royer- Collard, and other philosophers of the Scottish 
School,^ — 1. [They hold that] Perception (proper) is the No- 
tion or Conception of an object instinctively suggested, excited, in- 
spired, or, as it were, conjured up, on occasion, or at the sign, of 
a Sensation (proper). 

On the contrary, I hold, in general, that as Perception, in either 
form, is an immediate or presentative, not a mediate or repre- 
sentative, cognition, that a Perception proper is not, and ought 
not to be called, a Notion or Conception. And I hold in par- 

^ I here contrast my o^^^l doctrine of perception with that of the philos- 
ophers in question, not beciluse their views and mine are those at farthest 
variance on the point, but on the contrary, precisely because they thereon 
approximate the nearest. I have already shown that the doctrine touching 
Perception held by Reid (and, in the present relation, he and his two illustri- 
ous followers are in almost all respects at one) is ambi<^uous. Eor while 
some of its statements seem to harmonize exclusively with the conditions of 
Natural Presentationism, others, again, appear only compatible with those 
of an Egoistical Representationism. Maintaining, as I ao, the ibrmer doc- 
trine, it is, of course, only the positions conformable to the latter, which 
it is, at present, necessary to adduce. 

33=* (389) 



390 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTIO-N. 

ticular, that, on the one hand, in the consciousness of sensations, 
out of each other, contrasted, hmited, and variously arranged, 
we have a Perception proper of the Primary qualities, in an 
externality to the mind, though not to the nervous organism, as 
an immediate cognition, and not merely as a notion or concept 
of something extended, figured, etc. ; and on the other, as a cor- 
relative contained in the consciousness of our voluntary motive 
energy resisted, and not resisted by aught within the limits of 
mind and its subservient organs, we have a Perception proper 
ot tne Secundo-primary quality of resistance, in an extra-or- 
ganic force, as an immediate cognition, and not merely as a no- 
tion or concept, of a resisting something external to our body ; — 
though certainly in either case, there may be, and probably is, 
a concomitant act of imagination, by which the whole complex 
consciousness on the occasion is filled up. 

2. [They hold that,] on occasion of the Sensation (proper), 
along with the notion or conception which constitutes the Per- 
ception (proper) of the external object, there is blindly created 
in us, or instinctively determined^ an invincible belief in its exist- 
ence. 

On the contrary, I hold, that we only believe in the existence 
of what we perceive, as extended, figured, resisting, etc., inas- 
much as we believe that we are conscious of these qualities as 
existing ; consequently, that a belief in the existence of an ex- 
tended world, external to the mind, and even external to the 
organism, is not a faith blindly created or instinctively deter- 
mined, in supplement of a representative or mediate cognition, 
but exists in, as an integral constituent of, Perception proper, as 
an act of intuitive or immediate knowledge. 

3. [They hold that] the object of Perception (proper) is a 
conclusion^ or inference, or result (instinctive, indeed, not ratioc- 
inative), from a Sensation proper. 

On the contrary, I hold, that the object of Perception proper 
is given immediately, in and along with the object of Sensation 
proper. 

4. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) precedes^ Perception 
(proper) follows. 



THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 391 

On the contrary, I hold, that though Sensation proper be the 
condition of, and therefore anterior to, Perception proper in the 
order of nature, that, in the order of time, both are necessarily 
coexistent, — the latter being only realized in and through the 
present existence of the former. Thus, visual extension cannot 
be perceived, or even imagined, except under the sensation of 
color ; while color, again, cannot be apprehended or imagined, 
without, respectively, a concomitant apprehension or phantasm 
of extension. 

5. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) is not only an ante- 
cedent, but an arbitrary antecedent^ of Perception (proper). The 
former is only a sign on occasion of which the latter follows ; 
they have no necessary or even natural connection ; and it is 
only by the will of God, that we do not perceive the qualities of 
external objects independently of any sensitive affection. This 
last, indeed, seems to be actually the case in the perception of 
visible extension and figure. 

On the contrary, I hold that Sensation proper is the universal 
condition of Perception proper. We are never aware even of 
the existence of our organism except as it is somehow affected ; 
and are only conscious of extension, figure, and the other objects 
of Perception proper, as realized in the relations of the affec- 
tions of our sentient organism, as a body extended, figured, etc. 
As to color and visible extension, neither can be apprehended, 
neither can be even imagined, apart from the other. 

6. [They hold that,] in a Sensation (proper) of the Secondary 
qualities, as affections in us, we have a Perception (^proper) of 
them as properties in objects and causes of the affections in us. 

On the contrary, I hold, that as Perception proper is an im- 
mediate cognition ; and as the Secondary qualities, in bodies, are 
only inferred, and therefore only mediately known to exist, as 
occult causes of manifest effects ; that these, at best only object? 
of a mediate knowledge, are not objects of Perception. 

7. [They hold that,] in like manner, in the case of various 
other bodily affections, as the toothache, gout, etc., we have not 
only a Sensation proper of the painful feeling, but a conceptioQ 
and belief, i. e. a Perception {proper), of its cause. 



392 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 

On the contrary, and for the same reason, I hold, that there 
is in this case no such Perception. 

8. [They hold that] Sensation (proper) is an affection purely 
of the mind^ and not in any way an affection of the body. 

On the contrary, I hold with Aristotle, indeed, with philoso- 
phers in general, that Sensation is an affection neither of the 
body alone, nor of the mind alone, but of the composite of which 
each is a constituent ; and that the subject of Sensation may be 
indifferently said to be our organism (as animated), or our soul 
(as united with an organism). For instance, hunger or color 
are, as apprehended, neither modes of mind apart from body, 
nor modes of body apart from mind. 

9. [They hold that] Sensations (proper), as merely affections 
of the mind, have no locality in the body, no locality at all. 
From this the inference is necessary, that, though conscious of 
the relative place and reciprocal outness of sensations, we do 
not, in this consciousness, apprehend any real externality and 
extension. 

On the contrary, I hold, that Sensation proper, bemg the con- 
sciousness of an affection, not of the mind alone, but of the 
mind as it is united with the body, that in the consciousness of 
sensations, relatively localized and reciprocally external, we have 
a veritable apprehension, and consequently, an immediate per- 
ception, of the affected organism, as extended, divided, figured, 
etc. This alone is the doctrine of Natural Realism, of Common 
Sense. 

10. [They hold that,] in the case of Sensation (proper) and 
the Secondary qualities, there is ?i determinate quality in certain 
bodies, exclusively competent to cause a determinate sensation 
in us, as color, odor, savor, etc. ; consequently, that from the 
fact of a similar internal effect, we are warranted to infer the 
existence of a similar external concause. 

On the contrary, I hold, that a similar sensation only im2)lies 
a similar idiopatliic affection of the nervous organism ; but such 
affection requires only the excitation of an appropriate stimulus ; 
. while such stimulus may be supplied by manifold agents of the 
most opposite nature, both from within the body and from with- 
out. 



THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 393 

11. [Tbey bold that] Perception excludes me^wory; Percep- 
tion (proper) cannot therefore be apprehensive of motion. 

On the contrary, I hold, that as memory, or a certain con- 
tinuous representation, is a condition of consciousness, it is a 
condition of Perception ; and that motion, therefore, cannot, 
on this ground, be denied as an object apprehended through 
sense. 

1 2. [They hold that] an apprehension of relations is not an 
act of Perception (proper). 

On the contrary, I hold, in general, that as all consciousness 
is realized only in the apprehension of the relations of plurality 
and contrast ; and as perception is a consciousness ; that the ap- 
prehension of relation cannot, sirnpliciter, be denied to percep- 
tion : and, in particular, that unless we annihilate Perception 
proper, by denying to it the recognition of its peculiar objects, 
Extension, Figure, and the other Primary qualities, we cannot 
deny to it the recognition of relations ; for, to say nothing of the 
others. Extension is perceived only in apprehending sensations 
out of sensations — a relation ; and Figure is only perceived in 
apprehending one perceived extension as limited, and limited in 
a certain manner by another — a complexus of relations. 

13. [They hold that] distant realities are objects of Percep- 
tion (proper). 

On the contrary, I hold, that the mind perceives nothing ex- 
ternal to itself, except the affections of the organism as animated, 
the reciprocal relations of these affections, and the correlative 
involved in the consciousness of its locomotive energy being re- 
sisted. 

14. [They hold that] objects not in contact with the organs 
of sense are perceived by a medium. 

On the contrary, I hold, that the only object perceived is the 
organ itself, as modified, or what is in contact with the organ, as 
resisting. 

15. [They hold that] Extension and Figure are first perceived 
through the sensations of Touch, 

On the contrary, I hold, that, (unless by Extension be under- 
stood only extension in the three dimensions, as Reid in fact 



394 THE DOCTRINE OF PERCEPTION. 

Beems to do, but not Stewart,) this is erroneous ; for an extension 
is apprehended in the apprehension of the reciprocal externality 
of all sensations. Moreover, to allow even the statement as 
thus restricted to pass, it would be necessary to suppose, that 
under Touch, it is meant to comprehend the consciousness of the 
Locomotive energy and of the Muscular feelings. 

1 6. [They hold that] Externality is exclusively perceived on 
occasion of the sensations of Touch, 

On the contrary, I hold, that it is, primarily, in the conscious- 
ness of our locomotive energy being resisted, and, secondarily, 
through the sensations of mr >cular feeling, that the perception 
of Externality is realized. All this, however, might be con- 
fusedly involved in the Touch of the philosophers in question. 

17. [They hold that] real (or absolute) magnitude is an ob- 
ject of perception (proper) through Touchy but through Touch 
only. 

On the contrary, I hold, that the magnitude perceived through 
touch is as purely relative as that perceived through vision or 
any other sense ; for the same magnitude does not appear the 
same to touch at one part of the body and to touch at another. 

18. [They hold that] Color ^ though a Secondary quality, is 
an object, not of Sensation (proper), but of Perception (proper) ; 
in other words, we perceive Color, not as an affection of our 
own minds, but as a quality of external things. 

On the contrary, I hold, that Color, in itself, as apprehended 
or immediately known by us, is a mere affection of the sentient 
organism ; and therefore, like the other Secondary qualities, an 
object not of Perception, but of Sensation, proper. The only 
distinguishing peculiarity in this case lies in the three following 
circumstances : — a) That the organic affection of Color, though 
not altogether indifferent, still, being accompanied by compara- 
tively little pleasure, comparatively httle pain, the apprehension 
of this affection, qua affection, i. e. its Sensation pi'oper, is, con- 
sequently, always at a minimum. — b) That the passion of Color 
first rising into consciousness, not from the amount of the inten- 
sive quantity of the affection, but from the amount of the exten- 
sive quantity of the organism affected, is necessarily apprehended 



INTERN^AL PERCEPTIOlSr ; SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 395 

under the condition of extension. — c) That tlie isolation, tenu- 
ity, and delicacy of the ultimate filaments of the optic nerve 
afford us sensations minutely and precisely distinguished, sensa- 
tions realized in consciousness only as we are conscious of them 
AS out of each other in space. — These circumstances show, that 
while, in vision, Perception proper is at its maximum, and Sen- 
sation proper at its minimum, the sensation of Color cannot be 
realized apart from the perception of extension : but they do 
not warrant the assertions, that Color is not, hke the other Sec- 
ondary qualities, apprehended by us as a mere sensorial affection, 
and, therefore, an object, not of Sensation proper, but of Percep- 
tion proper.] — Diss. svpp. to Reid, 

Sensation and Perception do not always coexist in the same 
degree of intensity, but they are equally original ; and it is only 
by an act not of the easiest abstraction,, that we are able to dis- 
criminate them scientifically from each other. So much for 
the first of the two faculties by which we acquire knowledge, — 
the faculty of External Perception. 

The faculty of Self consciousness, — The second of these fac- 
ulties is Self-consciousness, which has likewise received, among 
others, the name of Internal or Reflex Perception. This facul- 
ty will not occupy us long, as the principal questions regarding 
its nature and operation have been already considered, in treat- 
ing of Consciousness in general. 

I formerly showed that it is impossible to distinguish Percep- 
tion, or the other Special Faculties, from Consciousness, — in 
other words, to reduce Consciousness itself to a special faculty ; 
and that the attempt to do so by the Scottish philosophers is 
self-contradictory. T stated, however, that though it be incom- 
petent to establish a faculty for the immediate knowledge of the 
external world, and a faculty for the immediate knowledge of 
the internal, as two ultimate powers, exclusive of each other, 
ano not merely subordinate forms of a higher immediate knowl- 
edge, under which they are comprehended or carried up into 
one, — I stated, I say, that though the immediate knowledges of 
matter and of mind are still only modifications of Consciousness, 
yet that their discrimination, as subaltern faculties, is both al- 



896 INTERNAL PERCEPTION; SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

lowable and convenient. Accordingly, in tlie scheme which I 
gave you of the distribution of Consciousness into its special 
modes, — I distinguished a facuhy of External, and a faculty of 
Internal, Apprehension, constituting together a more general 
modification of Consciousness, which I called the Acquisitive, or 
Presentative, or Receptive Faculty. 

In regard to Self-consciousness, — the faculty of Internal 
Experience, — philosophers have been far more harmonious 
than in regard to External Perception. In fact, their differ- 
ences touching this faculty originate rather in the ambiguities of 
language, and the different meanings attached to the same form 
of expression, than in any fundamental opposition of opinion in 
regard to its reality and nature. It is admitted equally by all 
to exist, and to exist as a source of knowledge ; and the supposed 
differences of philosophers in this respect are, as I shall show 
you, mere errors in the historical statement of their opinions. 

Self-consciousness contrasted with Perception, — The sphere 
and character of this faculty of acquisition will be best illus- 
trated by contrasting it with the other. Perception is the power 
by which we are made aware of the phaenomena of the Exter- 
nal world ; Self-consciousness, the power by w^hich we apprehend 
the phaenomena of the Internal. The objects of the former are 
all presented to us in Space and Time ; space and time are thus 
the two conditions, — the two fundamental forms, of External 
Perception.^ The objects of the latter are all apprehended by 

* [Kant, first, made our actual world one merely of illusion. Time and 
Space, under which we must perceive and think, he reduced to mere sub- 
jective spectral forms, which have no real archetype in the noumenal or 
real universe. We can infer nothing from this, [the actual, world,] to that, 
[the noumenal or real universe. The law of] Cause and Effect governs 
thing and thought in the world of Space and Time ; [this law does] nor 
subsist where Time and Space have no reality. Kant, secondly, made 
Reason, Intelligence, contradict itself in its legitimate exercise. Antinomy 
[contradiction] is part and parcel of its nature. Thus, scepticism — the 
conviction that we live in a world of unreality and illusion, and that our 
very faculty of knowledge is only given us to mislead, is the result of 
[Kant's philosophy]. 

On the contrary, my doctrine holds, first, that Space and Time, as given, 



INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 397 

US in Time and in Self; time and self are thus the two condi- 
tions, — the two fundamental forms, of Internal Perception ox 
Self-consciousness. Time is thus a form or condition common to 
both faculties ; while Space is a form peculiar to the one, Self a 
form peculiar to the other. What I mean by the ybrm or con- 
dition of a faculty, is that frame, — that setting (if I may so 
speak), out of which no object can be known. Thus, we only 
know, through Self-consciousness, the phaenomena of the Internal 
world, as modifications of the indivisible Ego or conscious unit ; 

are real forms of thought and conditions of things ; and, secondly, that In- 
telligence, Reason, within its legitimate limits, is legitimate ; within this 
sphere, it nevei deceives ; and it is only when transcending this sphere, 
when founding on its illegitimate as on its legitimate exercise, that it affords 
a contradictory result. 

Kant holds the subjectivity of Space (and Time), and, if he does not 
deny, will not affirm the existence of a real space, external to our minds ; 
because it is a mere form of our perceptive faculty. He holds that we have 
no knowledge of any external thing as really existing, and that all our 
perceptions are merely appearances, i. e, subjective representations, — sub- 
jective modifications, — which the mind is determined to exhibit, as an ap- 
parently objective opposition to itself, — its pure and real subjective modi- 
fications. Yet, while he gives up the external existence of space, as beyond 
the sphere of consciousness, he holds the reality of external material ex- 
istences (things in themselves), which are equally beyond the sphere of 
consciousness. It was incumbent on him to render a reason for this seem- 
ing inconsistency, and to explain how his system was not, in its legitimate 
conclusions, an universal Idealism ; and he has accordingly attempted to 
establish, by necessary inference, what his philosophy could not accept as 
an immediate fact of consciousness. 

Kant endeavored to evince that pure Reason, that Intelligence, is natu- 
rally, is necessarily, repugnant with itself, and that speculation ends in a 
series of insoluble antilogies. In its highest potcnce, in its ver^' essence, 
thought is thus infected with contradiction ; and the worst and most pervad- 
ing scepticism is the melancholy result. If I have done any thing meritori- 
ous in philosophy, it is in the attempt to explain the phsenomena of these 
contradictions ; in showing that they arise only when intelligence transcends 
the limits to which its legitimate exercise is restricted ; and that, within 
these bounds (the Conditioned), natural thought is neither fallible nor men- 
dacious — "Neque decipitur, nee decipit umquam." If this view be cor- 
rect, Kant's antinomies, with their consequent scepticism, are solved ; and 
the human mind, however weak, is shown not to be the work of a treacher- 
ous Creator.] — Appendix, 
34 



3 "8 INTKUNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

we only know, through Perception, the phasnomena of the Exter- 
nal world, under Space, or as modifications of the extended and 
divisible Non-ego or known plurality. That the forms are na- 
tive, not adventitious, to the mind, is involved in their necessity. 
What I cannot but think, must be a prion, or original to 
thought ; it cannot be engendered by experience upon custom. 
But this is not a subject the discussion of which concerns us at 
present. 

It may be asked, if self, or Ego, be the form of Self-conscious- 
ness, why is the not-self, the Non-ego, not in hke manner called 
the form of Perception ? To this I reply, that the not-self is 
only a negation, and, though it discriminates the objects of the 
external cognition from those of the internal, it does not afford 
to the former any positive bond of union among themselves. 
This, on the contrary, is supplied to them by the form of Space, 
out of which they can neither be perceived, nor imagined by the 
mind ; — Space, therefore, as the positive condition under which 
the Non-ego is necessarily known and imagined, and through 
which it receives its unity in consciousness, is properly said to 
afford the condition, or form, of External Perception. 

The mind itself is not extended, — But a more important 
question may be started. If Space,- — if extension, be a neces- 
sary form of thought, this, it may be argued, proves that the 
mind itself is extended. The reasoning here proceeds upon the 
assumption, that the qualities of the subject knowing must be 
similar to the qualities of the object known. This, as I have 
already stated, is a mere philosophical crotchet, — an assumption 
without a shadow even of probability in its favor. That the 
mind has the power of perceiving extended objects, is no ground 
for holding that it is itself extended. Still less can it be main- 
tained, that because it has ideally a native or necessary concep- 
tion of space, it must really occupy space. Nothing can be 
more absurd. On this doctrine, to exist as extended is supposed 
necessary in order to think extension. But if this analogy hold 
good, the sphere of ideal space, which the mind can imagine, 
ought to be limited to the sphere, of real space which the mind 
actually fills. This is not, however, the case ; for though the 



IISfTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 399 

mind be not absolutely unlimited in its power of conceiving 
space, still the compass of thought may be viewed as infinite in 
this respect, as contrasted with the petty point of extension, 
which the advocates of the doctrine in question allow it to oc- 
cupy in its corporeal domicil. 

Two modes of treating the fhcenomena of Self-consciousness. 
— The faculty of self-consciousness affords us a knowledge of 
the phaenomena of our minds. It is the source of internal ex- 
perience. You will, therefore, observe, that, like External Per- 
ception, it only furnishes us with facts ; and that the use we 
make of these facts, — that is, what we find in them, what we 
deduce from them, — belongs to a different process of intelli- 
gence. Self-consciousness affords the materials equally to all 
systems of philosophy ; all equally admit it, and all elaborate 
the materials which this faculty supplies, according to their 
fashion. And here I may merely notice, by the way, what, in 
treating of the Regulative Faculty, will fall to be regularly dis- 
cussed, that these facts, these materials, may be considered in 
two ways. We may employ either Induction alone^ or also 
Analysis. If we merely consider the phaenomena which Self-con- 
sciousness reveals, in relation to each other, — merely compare 
them together, and generalize the qualities which they display 
in common, and thus arrange them into cla^^ses or groups gov- 
erned by the same laws, we perform the process of Induction. 
By this process, we obtain what is general, hut not what is neces- 
sary. For example, having observed that external objects pre- 
sented in perception are extended, we generalize the notion of 
extension or space. We have thus explained the possibility of 
a conception of space, but only of space as a general and contin- 
gent notion ; for if we hold that this notion exists in the mind 
only as the result of such a process, we must hold it to be a pos- 
teriori or adventitious, and, therefore, contingent. Such is the 
process of Induction, or of Simple Observation. The other 
process, that of Analysis or Criticism, does not rest satisfied 
with this comparison and generalization, which it, however, 
supposes. It proposes, not merely to find what is general in the 
phasnomena, but what is necessary and universal. It, accordingly, 



400 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS 

takes mental phsenomena, and, by abstraction, throws aside all 
that it is able to detach, without annihilating the phsenomena 
altogether ; — in short, it analyzes thought into its essential or 
necessary, and its accidental or contingent, elements. 

All necessity to us is subjective, — Thus, from Observation and 
Induction, we discover what experience affords as its general 
result ; from Analysis and Criticism, we discover what experi- 
ence supposes as its necessary condition. You will notice, that 
the critical analysis of which I now speak, is limited to the 
objects of our internal observation ; for in the phaenomena of 
mind alone can we be conscious of absolute necessity. All ne- 
cessity is, in fact, to us subjective ; for a thing is conceived 
impossible, only as we are unable to construe it in thought. 
Whatever does not violate the laws of thought is, therefore, not 
to us impossible, however firmly we may believe that it will not 
occur. For example, we hold it absolutely impossible, that a 
thing can begin to be without a cause. Why ? Simply because 
the mind cannot realize to itself the conception of absolute com- 
mencement. That a stone should ascend into the air, we firmly 
believe will never happen ; but we find no difficulty in conceiv- 
ing it possible. Why ? Merely because gravitation is only a 
fact generalized by induction and observation ; and its negation, 
therefore, violates no law of thought. When we talk, therefore, 
of the necessity of any external phasnomenon, the expression is 
improper, if the necessity be only an inference of induction, and 
not involved in any canon of intelligence. For Induction proves 
to us onli/ what is, ngt what must he, — the actual, not the nec- 
essary. 

Use of the Inductive and Critical Methods in philosophy, — 
The two processes of Induction or Observation, and of Analysis 
or Criticism, have been variously employed by different philos- 
ophers. Locke, for instance, limited himself to the former, 
overlooking altogether the latter. He, accordingly, discovered 
nothing necessary, or a priori^ in the phaenomena of our inter- 
nal experience. To him, all axioms are only generalizations of 
experience. In this respect, he was greatly excelled by Descar- 
tes and Leibnitz. The latter, indeed, was the philosopher who 



INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 401 

clearly enunciated the principle, that the pha3nomenon of neces- 
sity, in our cognitions, could not be explained on the ground of 
experience. " All the examples," he says, " which confirm a gen- 
eral truth, how numerous soever, would not suffice to establish the 
universal necessity of this same truth ; for it does not follow, that 
what has hitherto occurred will always occur in future/' " If 
Locke," he adds, " had sufficiently considered the difference be- 
tween truths which are necessary or demonstrative, and those 
which we infer from induction alone, he would have perceived 
that necessary truths could only be proved from principles Avhich 
command our assent by their intuitive evidence ; inasmuch as 
our senses can inform us only of what is, not of what must 
necessarily be." Leibnitz, however, was not himself fully 
aware of the import of the principle ; — at least, he failed in 
carrying it out to its most important applications ; and though 
he triumphantly demonstrated, in opposition to Locke, the a 
priori character of many of those cognitions which Locke had 
derived from experience, yet he left to Kant the honor of having 
been the first who fully applied the Critical analysis in the phi- 
losophy of mind. 

Has Locke been ynisrepresented by his French disciples^ — 
The faculty of Self-consciousness corresponds with the Reflec- 
tion of Locke. Now, there is an interesting question concern- 
ing this faculty ; — whether the philosophy of Locke has been 
misapprehended and misrepresented by Condlllac, and other of 
his French disciples, as Mr. Stewart maintains ; or, whether 
Mr. Stewart has not himself attempted to vindicate the tendency 
of Locke's philosophy on grounds which wall not bear out his 
conclusions. Mr. Stewart has canvassed this point at consider- 
able length, [and by him] the point at issue is thus briefly 
stated : " the objections to which Locke's doctrine concerning 
the origin of our ideas, or, in other words, concerning the 
sources of our knowledge, are, in my judgment, liable, I have 
stated so fully in a former work, that I shall not touch on them 
here. It is quite sufficient, on the present occasion, to reraai'k. 
how very unjustly this doctrine (imperfect, on the most favor- 
able construction, as it undoubtedly is) has been confound '^d 

34 >^ 



402 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

with those of Gassendi, of Coiidillac, of Diderot, and of Home 
Tooke. The substance of all that is common in the conclusions 
of these last writers, cannot be better expressed than in the 
words of their master, Gassendi. ' All our knowledge,' he ob- 
serves in a letter to Descartes, ' appears plainly to derive its 
origin from the senses ; and although you deny the maxim, 
" Quicquid est intellectu praeesse debere in sensu," [Whatever 
is in the intellect must have previously been in the faculty of 
sense,] yet this maxim appears, nevertheless, to be true ; since 
our knowledge is all ultimately obtained by an influx or incur^ 
sion from things external ; which knowledge afterwards under- 
goes various modifications, by means of analogy, composition, 
division, amplification, extenuation, and other similar processes, 
which it is unnecessary to enumerate.' This doctrine of Gassen- 
di's coincides exactly with that ascribed to Locke by Diderot and 
by Home Tooke ; and it differs only verbally from the more 
concise statement of Condillac, that ' our ideas are nothing more 
than transformed sensations' ' Every idea,' says the first of 
these writers, 'must necessarily, when brought to its state of 
ultimate decomposition, resolve itself into a sensible representa- 
tion or picture ; and since every thing in our understanding has 
been introduced there by the channel of sensation, whatever 
proceeds out of the understanding is either chimerical, or must 
be able, in returning by the same road, to reattach itself to its 
sensible archetype. Hence an important rule in philosophy, — 
that every expression which cannot find an external and a sen- 
sible object, to which it can thus establish its affinity, is destitute 
of signification.' Such is the exposition given by Diderot, of 
what is regarded in France as Locke's great and capital discov- 
ery ; and precisely to the same purpose we are told by Condor- 
cet, that ' Locke was the first who proved that all our ideas are 
compounded of sensations.' If this were to be admitted as a 
fair account of Locke's opinion, it would follow that he has not 
advanced a single step beyond Gassendi and Hobbes ; both of 
whom have repeatedly expressed themselves in nearly the same 
words with Diderot and Condorcet. But although it must be 
granted, in favor of their interpretation of his language, that 



INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. AOo 

various detached passages may be quoted from his work, whicli 
seem, on a superficial view, to justify theh^ comments ; yet of 
what weight, it may be asked, are these passages, when com- 
pared with the stress laid by the author on Reflection, as an 
original source of our ideas, altogether different from Sensation ? 
* The other fountain,' says Locke, ' from which experience fur- 
nisheth the understanding with ideas, is the perception of the 
operations of our own minds within us, as it is employed about 
the ideas it has got ; which operations, when the soul comes to 
reflect on and consider, do furnish the understanding with an- 
other set of ideas, which could not be had from things without ; 
and such are Perception, Thinking, Doubting, Believing, Rea- 
soning, Knowing, Willing, and all the different actings of our 
own minds, which, we being conscious of, and observing in our- 
selves, do from these receive into our understandings ideas as 
distinct as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source 
of ideas every man has wholly in himself; and though it be not 
sense, as having nothing to do with external objects, yet it is 
very like it, and might properly enough be called Internal Sense. 
But as I call the other Sensation, so I call this Reflection ; the 
ideas it affords being such only as the mind gets by reflecting on 
its own operations within itself? Again, ' The understanding 
seems to me not to have the least glimmering of any ideas 
which it does not receive from one of these two. External 
objects furnish the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities ; 
and the mind furnishes the understanding with ideas of its own 
operations.' " 

Stewart's vindication unsatisfactory. — On these observations 
I must remark, that they do not at all satisfy me ; and I cannot 
but regard Locke and Gassendi as exactly upon a par, and both 
as deriving all our knowledge from experience.^ The French 
philosophers are, therefore, in my opinion, fully justified in their 
interpretation of Locke's philosophy ; and Condillac must, I 
think, be viewed as having simplified the doctrine of his master, 
without doing the smallest violence to its spirit. In the first place, 

=* [True ; but from experience by way both of sensation and reflection ; and 
not from experience by way of sensation alone.] — Am. Ed. 



404 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

I cannot concur with Mr. Stewart in allowing any weight to 
Locke's distinction of Reflection, or Self-consciousness, as a 
second source of our knowledge. Such a source of experience 
no sensualist ever denied, because no sensualist ever denied that 
sense was cognizant of itself. It makes no difference that Locke 
distinguished Reflection from Sense, " as having nothing to do 
with external objects," admitting, however, that " thej are ver j 
like," and that Reflection " might properlj enough be called In- 
ternal Sense," while Condillac makes it only a modification of 
sense. It is a matter of no importance that we do not call 
Self-consciousness by the name of Sense, if we allow that it is 
only conversant about the contingent. Now, no interpretation 
of Locke can ever pretend to find in his Reflection a revelation 
to him of aught native or necessary to the mind, beyond the 
capability to act and suffer in certain manners, — a capability 
which no philosophy ever dreamt of denying. And if this be 
the case, it follows, that the formal reduction, by Condillac, of 
Reflection to Sensation, is only a consequent following out of 
the principles of the doctrine itself. 

The philosophy of Gassendi, — Of how little import is the 
distinction of Reflection from Sensation, in the philosophy of 
Locke, is equally shown in the philosophy of Gassendi ; in regard 
to which I must correct a fundamental error of Mr. Stewart. I 
had formerly occasion to point out to you the unaccountable 
mistake of this very learned philosopher, in relation to Locke's 
use of the term Reflection, which, both in his Essays and his 
Dissertation^ he states was a word first employed by Locke in 
its psychological signification. Nothing, I stated, could be more 
incorrect. When adopted by Locke, it was a word of universal 
currency, in a similar sense, in every contemporary system of 
philosophy, and had been so employed for at least a thousand 
years previously. This being understood, Mr. Stewart's mistake 
in regard to Gassendi is less surprising. " The word Reflections^ 
says Mr. Stewart, " expresses the peculiar and characteristical 
doctrine, by which Locke's system is distinguished from that of 
the Gassendists and Hobbists. All this, however, serves only to 
prove still more clearly, how widely remote his real opinion 017 



INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 40o 

this subject was from that commonlj ascribed to him by the 
French and German commentators. For my own part, I do 
not think, notwithstanding some casual expressions which may 
seem to favor the contrary supposition, that Locke would have 
hesitated foi' a moment to admit, with Cudworth and Price, that 
the Understanding is itself a source of new ideas. That it is 
by Reflection^ (which, according to its own definition, means 
merely the exercise of the Understanding on the internal phe- 
nomena,) that we get our ideas of Memory, Imagination, 
Reasoning, and of all other intellectual powers, Mr. Locke has 
again and again told us ; and from this principle it is so obvious 
an inference, that all the simple ideas, which are necessarily 
implied in our intellectual operations, are ultimately to be 
referred to the same source, that we cannot reasonably suppose 
a philosopher of Locke's sagacity to admit the former propo- 
sition, and to withhold his assent to the latter." 

The inference which, in the latter part of this quotation, Mr. 
Stewart speaks of, is not so obvious as he supposes, seeing that 
it was not till Leibnitz that the character of necessity was 
enounced, and clearly enounced, as the criterion by which to 
discriminate the native from the adventitious cognitions of the 
mind. This is, indeed, shown by the example of Gassendi 
himself, who is justly represented by Mr. Stewart as a Sen- 
sationalist of the purest water ; but wholly misrepresented by 
him, as distinguished from Locke by his negation of any faculty 
corresponding to Locke's Reflection. So far is this from being 
correct, — Gassendi not only allowed a faculty of Self-conscious- 
ness analogous to the Reflection of Locke, he actually held such 
a faculty, and even attributed to it far higher functions than did 
the English philosopher ; nay, what is more, held it under the 
very name of Reflection. In fact, from the French philosopher 
Locke borrowed this, as he did the principal part of his whole 
philosophy ; and it is saying but little either for the patriotism 
or intelligence of their countrymen, that the works of Gassendi 
and Descartes should have been so long eclipsed in France by 
those of Locke, who was in truth only a follower of the one, 
and a mistaken refuter of the other. In respect to Gassendi, 



406 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

tliere are reasons that explain this neglect apart from any want 
of merit in himself; for he is a thinker fully equal to Locke in 
independence and vigor of intellect, and, with the exception of 
Leibnitz, he is, of all the great philosophers of modern times, 
the most varied and profound in learning. 

Gassendi's division of the phcenomena of mind, — Now, in 
regard to the point at issue, so far is Gassendi from assimilating 
Reflection to Sense, as Locke virtually, if not expressly, does, 
and for which assimilation he has been principally lauded by 
those of his followers who analyzed every mental process into 
Sensation, — so far, I say, is Gassendi from doing this, that he 
places Sense and Reflection at the opposite mental poles, making 
the former a mental function wholly dependent upon the bodily 
organism ; the latter, an energy of intellect wholly inorganic and 
abstract from matter. The cognitive phsenomena of mind Gas- 
sendi reduces to three general classes of faculties: — 1°. Sense, 
2°. Phantasy (or Lnagination), and 3°. Intellect. The two 
former are, however, virtually one, inasmuch as Phantasy, on 
his doctrine, is only cognizant about the forms which it receives 
from Sense, and is, equally with Sense, dependent on a corporeal 
organ. Intellect, on the contrary, he holds, is not so dependent, 
and that its functions are, therefore, of a kind superior to those 
of an organic faculty. These functions or faculties of Intellect 
he reduces to three. "The first," he says, "is Intellectual 
Apprehension, — that is, the apprehension of things which are 
beyond the reach of Sense, and which, consequently, leaving no 
trace in the brain, are also beyond the ken of Imagination. 
Such, especially, is spiritual or incorporeal nature, as, for 
example, the Deity. For although in speaking of God, we say 
that He is incorporeal, yet in attempting to realize Him to 
Phantasy, we only imagine something with the attributes of 
body. It must not, however, be supposed that this is all ; for, 
besides and above the corporeal form which we thus imagine, 
there is, at the same time, another conception, which that form 
contributes, as it were, to veil and obscure. This conception is 
not confined to the narrow limits of Phantasy ; it is proper to 
Intellect ; and, therefore, such an apprehension ought not, to be 



INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 407 

called an imagination^ but an intelligence or intellection,^^ In his 
doctrine of Intellect, Gassendi takes, indeed, far higher ground 
than Locke ; and it is a total reversal of his doctrine, when it is 
stated, that he allowed to the mind no different, no higher, appre- 
hensions than the derivative images of Sense. He says, indeed, 
and he says truly, that if we attempt to figure out the Deity in 
imagination, we cannot depict Him in that faculty, except under 
sensible forms — as, for example, under the form of a venerable 
old man. But does he not condemn this attempt as derogatory ? 
and does he not allow us an intellectual conception of the 
Divinity, superior to the grovelling conditions of Phantasy ? 
The Cartesians, however, were too well disposed to overlook 
the limits under which Gassendi had advanced his doctrine, — 
that the senses are the source of all our knowledge ; and Mr. 
Stewart has adopted, from the Port Royal Logic, a statement 
of Gassendi's opinion, which is, to say the least of it, partial and 
incomplete. 

The second function which Gassendi assigns to Intellect is 
Reflection, and the third is Reasoning. It is with the former of 
these that we are at present concerned. Mr. Stewart, you have 
seen, distinguishes the philosophy of Locke from that of his 
predecessor in this, — that the former introduced Reflection or 
Self-consciousness as a source of knowledge, which was over- 
looked or disallowed by the latter. Mr. Stewart is thus wrong 
in the fact of Gassendi's rejection of any source of knowledge 
of the name and nature of Locke's Reflection. So far is this 
from being the case, that Gassendi attributes far more to this 
faculty than Locke ; for he not only makes it an original source 
of knowledge, but founds upon the nature of its action a proof 
of the immateriality of mind. " To the second operation," he 
says, " belongs the Attention or Reflection of the intellect upon 
its proper acts, — an operation by which it understands that it 
understands, and thinks that it thinks (qua se intelligere intelligit, 
cogitatve se cogitare). " We have formerly," he adds, " shown 
that it is above the power of Phantasy to imagine that it imag- 
ines, because, being of a corporeal nature, it cannot act upon 
itself; in fact, it is as absurd to say that I imagine myself to 



408 INTERNAL PERCEPTION: SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS. 

imagine, as that I see myself to see." He then goes on to show, 
that the knowledge we obtain of all our mental operations and 
affections is by this reflection of Intellect ; that it is necessarily 
of an inorganic or purely spiritual character ; that it is peculiar 
to man, and distinguishes him from the brutes ; and that it aids 
us in the recognition of disembodied substances, in the confession 
of a God, and in according to Him the veneration which we 
owe Him. 

From what I have now said, you will see, that the mere 
admission of a faculty of Self-consciousness, as a source of 
knowledge, is of no import in determining the rational, the 
anti-sensual, character of a philosophy ; and that even those 
philosophers who discriminated it the most strongly from Sense 
might still maintain that experience is not only the occasion, but 
the source, of all our knowledge. Such philosophers were Gas- 
Bendi and Locke. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. — MEMORY PROPER. 

Through the powers of External and Internal Perception 
we are enabled to acquire information, — experience : but this 
acquisition is not of itself independent and complete ; it sup- 
poses that we are also able to retain knowledge acquired, for 
we cannot be said to get what we are Unable to keep. The 
faculty of Acquisition is, therefore, only realized through an- 
other faculty, — the faculty of Retention or Conservation. Here 
we have another example of what I have already frequently 
had occasion to suggest to your observation ; — we have two 
faculties, two elementary phsenomena, evidently distinct, and 
yet each depending on the other for its realization. Without a 
power of Acquisition, a power of Conservation could not be ex- 
erted ; and without the latter, the former would be frustrated, for 
we should lose as fast as we acquired. But as the faculty of Ac- 
quisition would be useless without the faculty of Retention, so the 
faculty of Retention would be useless without the faculties of 
Reproduction and Representation. That the mind retained, 
beyond the sphere of consciousness, a treasury of knowledge, 
would be of no avail, did it not possess the power of bringing 
out, and of displaying, — in other words, of reproducing, and rep- 
resenting, this knowledge in consciousness. But because the 
faculty of Conservation would be fruitless without the ulterior 
faculties of Reproduction and Representation, we are not to 
confound these faculties, or to view the act of mind, which is 
their joint result, as a simple and elementary phsenomenon. 
Though mutually dependent on each other, the faculties of 
Conservation, Reproduction, and Representation are governed 

35 (409) 



410 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 

bj different laws, and, in different individuals, are found greatly 
varying in their comparative vigor. 

Use of the terms Memory and Recollection, — The intimate 
connection of these three faculties, or elementary activities, is 
the cause, however, why they have not been distinguished in the 
analysis of philosophers ; and why their distmction is not pre- 
cisely marked in ordinary language. In ordinary language, we 
have, indeed, words which, without excluding the other faculties, 
denote one of these more emphatically. Thus, in the term Mem- 
ory^ the Conservative Faculty, the phaenomenon of Retention, 
is the central notion, with which, however, those of Reproduc- 
tion and Representation are associated. In the term Recollec- 
tion ^ again, the phsenomenon of Reproduction is the principal 
notion, accompanied, however, by those of Retention and Rep- 
resentation as its subordinates. This being the case, it is evi- 
dent what must be our course in regard to the employment of 
common language. We must either abandon it altogether, or 
take the term that more proximately expresses our analysis, and, 
by definition, limit and specify its signification. Thus, in the 
Conservative Faculty, we may either content ourselves with the 
scientific terms of Conservation and Retention alone, or we may 
moreover use as a synonym the vulgar term Memory^ deterniin- 
ing its application, in our mouths, by a preliminary definition. 
And that the word Memory principally and properly denotes the 
power the mind possesses of retaining hold of the knowledge it 
Jias acquired, is generally admitted by philologists, and is not de- 
nied by philosophers. Of the latter, some have expressly avowed 
this. Of these, I* shall quote to you only two or three, which 
happen to occur the first to my recollection. Plato considers 
Memory simply as the faculty of Conservation. Aristotle dis- 
tinguishes Memory {iivrniri), as the faculty of Conservation, finm 
Reminiscence (dvaiivrjoig), the faculty of Reproduction. St. 
Augustin, who is not only the most illustrious of the Christian 
fathers, but one of the profoundest thinkers of antiquity, fin*:5ly 
contrasts Memory with Recollection or Reminiscence, in one of 
the most eloquent and philosophical chapters of his Oon/js- 
sions, Joseph Scaliger, also, speaking of himself, is mad^ to 



THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 411 

say : " I have not a good memory, but a good reminiscence ; 
proper names do not easily recur to me, hut when I think on 
them, I find them out." It is sufficient for our purpose that the 
distinction is here taken between the Retentive Power, — Mem- 
ory, and the Reproductive Power, — Reminiscence. Scahger's 
memory could hardly be called bad, though his reminiscence 
might be better ; and these elements in conjunction go to con- 
stitute a good memory, in the comprehensive sense of the ex- 
pression. I say the retentive faculty of that man is surely not 
to be despised, who was able to commit to memory Homer in 
twenty-one days, and the whole Greek poets in three months, 
and who, taking him all in all, was the most learned man the 
world has ever seen. I might adduce many other authorities to 
the same effect ; but this, I think, is sufficient to warrant me in 
using the term Memory exclusively to denote the faculty pos- 
sessed by the mind of preserving what has once been present 
to consciousness, so that it may again be recalled and represented 
in consciousness. So much for the verbal consideration. 

What is Memory f — By Memory or Retention, you will see, 
is only meant the condition of Reproduction ; and it is, there- 
fore, evident that it is only by an extension of the term that it 
can be called a faculty, that is, an active power. It is more a 
passive resistance th^,n an energy, and ought, therefore, perhaps 
to receive rather the appellation of a capacity. But the nature 
of this capacity or faculty we must now proceed to consider. 

In the first place, then, I presume that the fact of retention 
is admitted. We are conscious of certain cognitions as acquired, 
and we are conscious of these cognitions as resuscitated. That, 
in the interval, when out of consciousness, these cognitions do 
continue to subsist in the mind, is certainly an hypothesis, be- 
cause whatever is out of consciousness can only be assumed ; but 
it is an hypothesis which we are not only warranted, but neces- 
sitated, by the phenomena, to establish. I recollect, indeed, 
that one philosopher has proposed another hypothesis. Avicen- 
na, the celebrated Arabian philosopher and physician, denies to 
the human mind the conservation of its acquired knowledge ; 
and he explains the process of recollection by an irradiation of 



412 THE CONSERYATIYE FACULTY. 

divine liglit, through which the recovered cognition is infused 
into the intellect. Assuming, however, that the knowledge we 
have acquired is retained in and by the human mind, we must, 
of course, attribute to the mind a power of thus retaining it. 
The fact of memory is thus established. 

Retention admits of explanation. — But if it cannot be denied 
that the knowledge we have acquired by Perception and Self- 
consciousness does actually continue, though out of conscious- 
ness, to endure ; can we, in the second place, find any ground 
on which to explain the possibility of this endurance ? I think 
we can, and shall adduce such an explanation, founded on tiie 
general analogies of our mental nature. Before, however, com- 
mencing this, I may notice some of the similitudes which have 
been suggested by philosophers, as illustrative of this faculty. It 
has been compared to a storehouse, — Cicero calls it " thesaurus 
omnium rerum^'' — provided with cells or pigeon-holes, in which 
its furniture is laid up and arranged. It has been likened to a 
tablet, on which characters were written or impressed. But of all 
these sensible resemblances, none is so ingenious as that of Gas- 
sendi, to the folds in a piece of paper or cloth ; though I do not 
recollect to have seen it ever noticed. A sheet of paper, or 
cloth, is capable of receiving innumerable folds, and the folds in 
which it has been oftenest laid, it takes afterwards of itself. 

All these resemblances, if intended as more than metaphors, 
are unphilosophical. We do not even obtain any insight into 
the nature of Memory from any of the physiological hypotheses 
which have been stated ; indeed, all of them are too contempti- 
ble even for serious criticism. "The mind," [says Schmid,] 
"affords us, however, in itself, the very explanation which we 
vainly seek in any collateral influences. The phaenomenon of 
retention is, indeed, so natural, on the ground of the self-energy 
of mind, that we have no need to suppose any special faculty 
for memory ; the conservation of the action of the mind being 
involved in the very conception of its power of self-activity. 

The real difficulty of the problem, — " Let us consider how 
knowledge is acquired by the mind. Knowledge is not acquired 
by a mere passive affection, but through the exertion of sponta- 



THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 413 

neous activity on the part of the knowing subject ; for though 
this activity be not exerted without some external excitation, 
still this excitation is only the occasion on vv^hich the mind de- 
velops its self-energy. But this energy being once determined, 
it is natural that it should persist, until again annihilated by 
other causes. This would, in fact, be the case, were the mind 
merely passive in the impression it receives ; for it is a univer- 
sal law of nature, that every effect endures as long as it is not 
modified or opposed by any other effect. But the mental activ- 
ity, the act of knowledge, of which I now speak, is more than 
this ; it is an energy of the self-active power of a subject one and 
indivisible : consequently, a part of the Ego must be detached 
or annihilated, if a cognition once existent be again extinguished. 
Hence it is, that the problem most difficult of solution is noty 
how a mental activity endures^ hut how it ever vanishes. For as 
we must here maintain, not merely the possible continuance of 
certain energies, but the impossibility of the non-continuance of 
any one, we, consequently, stand in apparent contradiction to 
what experience shows us ; showing us, as it does, our internal 
activities in a ceaseless vicissitude of manifestation and disap- 
pearance. This apparent contradiction, therefore, demands 
solution. If it be impossible that an energy of mind which has 
once been should be abolished, without a laceration of the vital 
unity of the mind as a subject one and indivisible ; — on this 
supposition, the question arises. How can the facts of our self- 
consciousness be brought to harmonize with this statement, see- 
ing that consciousness proves to us, that cognitions once clear 
and vivid are forgotten ; that feelings, wishes, desires, in a word, 
every act or modification, of which we are at one time aware, 
are at another vanished ; and that our internal existence seems 
daily to assume a new and different aspect. ^ 

The distribution of the mental force explains forgetfulness. — 
" The solution of this problem is to be sought for in the theory 
of obscure or latent modifications, [that is, mental activities, real, 
but beyond the sphere of consciousness, which I formerly ex- 
plained.] The disappearance of internal energies from the 
view of internal perception does not warrant the conclusion, 

35* 



414 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 

that tliej no longer exist ; for we are not always conscious of 
all the mental energies whose existence cannot be disallowed. 
Onlj the more vivid changes sufficiently affect our consciousness 
to become objects of its apprehension : we, consequently, are 
only conscious of the more prominent series of changes in our 
internal state ; the others remain for the most part latent. Thus 
we take note of our memory only in its influence on our con- 
sciousness ; and, in general, do not consider that the immenr e 
proportion of our intellectual possessions consists of our delites- 
cent cognitions. All the cognitions which we possess, or have 
possessed, still remain to us, — the whole complement of all our 
knowledge still lies in our memory ; but as new acquisitions are 
continually pressing in upon the old, and continually taking 
place along with them among the modifications of the Ego, the 
old cognitions, unless from time to time refreshed and brought 
forward, are driven back, and become gradually fainter and 
more obscure. This obscuration is not, however, to be conceived 
as an obliteration, or as a total annihilation. The obscuration, 
the delitescence of mental activities, is explained by the weak- 
ening of the degree in which they affect our self-consciousness 
or internal sense. An activity becomes obscure, because it is 
no longer able adequately to affect this. To explain, therefore, 
the disappearance of our mental activities, it is only requisite to 
explain their weakening or enfeeblement, — which may be at- 
tempted in the following way: — Every mental activity belongs 
to the one vital activity of mind in general ; it is, therefore, 
indivisibly bound up with it, and can neither be torn from, nor 
abolished in, it. But the mind is only capable, at any one mo- 
ment, of exerting a certain quantity or degree of force. This 
quantity must, therefore, be divided among the different activi- 
ties, S3 that each has only a part; and the sum of force belong- 
mg to all the several activities taken together, is equal to the 
quantity or degree of force belonging to the vital activity of 
mind in general. Thus, in proportion to the greater number of 
activities in the mind, the less will be the proportion of force 
which will accrue to each ; .the feebler, therefore, each will be, 
and the fainter the vivacity with which it can affect self-con- 



THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 415 

sciousness. This weakening of vivacity can, in consequence of 
the indefinite increase in the number of our mental activities, 
caused by the ceaseless excitation of the mind to new knowl- 
edge, be carried to an indefinite tenuity, without the activities, 
therefore, ceasing altogether to be. Thus it is quite natural, that 
the great proportion of our mental cognitions should have waxed 
too feeble to affect our internal perception with the competent 
intensity ; it is quite natural that they should have become ob- 
scure or delitescent. In these circumstances, it is to be supposed, 
that every new cognition, every newly-excited activity, should 
be in the greatest vivacity, and should draw to itself the great- 
est amount of force : this force will, in the same proportion, be 
withdrawn from the other earlier cognitions ; and it is they, con- 
sequently, which must undergo the fate of obscuration. Thus 
is explained the phsenomenon of Forgetfulness or Oblivion. 
And here, by the way, it should perhaps be noticed, that forget- 
fulness is not to be limited merely to our cognitions : it applies 
equally to the feelings and desires. 

"The same principle illustrates, and is illustrated by, the 
phaenomenon of Distraction and Attention, If a great number 
of activities are equally excited at once, the disposable amount 
of mental force is equally distributed among this multitude, so 
that each activity only attains a low degree of vivacity; the 
state of mind which results from this is Distraction. Attention 
is the state the converse of this ; that is, the state in which the 
vital activity of mind is, voluntarily or involuntarily, concen- 
trated, say, in a single activity ; in consequence of which con- 
centration, this activity waxes stronger, and, therefore, clearer. 
On this theory, the proposition with which I started, — that all 
mental activities, all acts of knowledge, which have been once 
excited, persist, — becomes intelligible ; we never wholly lose 
them, but they become obscure. This obscuration can be con- 
ceived in every infinite degree, between incipient latescence and 
iiTCCoverable latency. The obscure cognition may exist simply 
out of consciousness, so that it can be recalled by a common act 
of reminiscence. Again, it may be impossible to recover it by 
an act of voluntary recollection ; but some association may re- 



416 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 

vivify it, enough to make it flash after a long oblivion into con- 
sciousness. Further, it may be obscured so far that it can only 
be resuscitated by some morbid affection of the system ; or, 
finally, it may be absolutely lost for us in this life, and destined 
only for our reminiscence in the life to come. 

Conservation of all the mental phcEnomena, — " That this 
doctrine admits of an immediate application to the faculty of 
detention, or Memory Proper, has been already signified. And 
in further explanation of this faculty, I would annex two obser- 
vations, which arise out of the preceding theory. The first is, 
that retention, that memory, does not belong alone to the cogni- 
tive faculties, but that the same law extends, in like manner, 
over all the three primary classes of the mental phaenomena. 
It is not ideas, notions, cognitions only, but feelings and cona- 
tions, which are held fast, and which can, therefore, be again 
awakened. This fact, of the conservation of our practical mod- 
ifications, is not indeed denied ; but psychologists usually so 
represent the matter, as if, when feelings or conations are re- 
tained in the mind, that this takes place only through the medium 
of the memory ; meaning by this, that we must, first of all, have 
had notions of these affections, which notions being preserved, 
they, when recalled to mind, do again awaken the modification 
they represent. From the theory I have detailed to you, it must 
be seen, that there is no need of this intermediation of notions, 
but that we immediately retain feelings, volitions, and desires, 
no less than notions and cognitions ; inasmuch as all the three 
classes of fundamental phaenomena arise equally out of the vital 
manifestations of the same one and indivisible subject. 

Memory dependent on corporeal conditions. — " The second 
result of this theory is, that the various attempts to explain 
memory by physiological hypotheses are as unnecessary as they 
are untenable. This is not the place to discuss the general 
problem touching the relation of mind and body. But in prox- 
imate reference to memory, it may be satisfactory to show, that 
this faculty does not stand in need of such crude modes of 
explanation. It must be allowed, that no faculty affords a more 
tempting subject for materialistic conjecture^ No othei' menral 



THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 417 

power betrays a greater dependence on corporeal conditions 
than memory. Not only, in general, does its vigorous or feeble 
activity essentially depend on the health and indisposition of the 
body, more especially of the nervous systems ; but there is 
manifested a connection between certain functions of memory 
and certain parts of the cerebral apparatus." This connection, 
however, is such as affords no countenance to any particular 
hypotheses at present in vogue. For example, after certain 
diseases, or certain affections of the brain, some partial loss of 
memory takes place. Perhaps the patient loses the whole of 
his stock of knowledge previous to the disease, the faculty of 
acquiring and retaining new information remaining entire. 
Perhaps he loses the memory of words, and preserves that of 
things. Perhaps he may retain the memory of nouns, and lose 
that of verbs, or vice versa; nay, what is still more marvellous, 
though it is not a very unfrequent occurrence, one language 
may be taken neatly out of his retention, without affecting his 
memory of others. " By such observations, the older psycholo- 
gists were led .to the various physiological hypotheses by which 
they hoped to account for the phaenomena of retention, — as, 
for example, the hypothesis of permanent material impressions 
on the brain, — or of permanent dispositions in the nervous fibres 
to repeat the same oscillatory movements, — of particular organs 
for the different functions of memory, — of particular parts of 
the brain as the repositories of the various classes of ideas, — or 
even of a particular fibre, as the instrument of every se^ eral 
notion. But all these hypotheses betray only an ignorance of 
the proper object of philosophy, and of the true nature of the 
thinking principle. They are at best but useless ; for if the 
unity and self-activity of mind be not denied, it is manifest, that 
the mental activities, which have been once determined, must 
persist, and these corporeal explanations are superfluous. Nor 
can it be argued, that the limitations to which the Retentive, or 
rather the Hep reductive. Faculty is subjected in its energies, in 
consequence of its bodily relations, prove the absolute depend- 
ence of memory on organization, and legitimate the explanation * 
of this faculty by corporeal agencies ; for the incompetency of 



418 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 

this inference can be shown from^ the contradiction in which it 
stands to the general laws of mind, which, howbeit conditioned 
by bodily relations, still ever preserves its self-activity and inde- 
pendence." 

Two qualities requisite to a good memory, — There is perhaps 
no mental power in which such extreme differences appear, in 
different individuals, as in memory. To a good memory there 
are certahily two qualities requisite, — 1 °, The capacity of Re- 
tention, and 2°, The faculty of Reproduction. But the former 
quality appears to be that by which these marvellous contrasts 
are principally determined. I should only fatigue you, were I 
to enumerate the prodigious feats of retention, which are proved 
to have been actually performed. Of these, I shall only select 
the one which, upon the whole, appears to me the most extra- 
ordinary. 

The sum of the statement is, that at Padua there dwelt, 
[near Muretus,] a young man, a Corsican by birth, and of a 
good family in that island, who had come thither for the culti- 
vation of Civil law, in which he was a diligent and distinguished 
student. He was a frequent visitor at the house and gardens 
of Muretus, who, having heard that he possessed a remarkable 
art, or faculty of memory, took occasion, though incredulous in 
regard to reports, of requesting from him a specimen of his 
power. He at once agreed ; and having adjourned wdth a 
considerable party of distinguished auditors into a saloon, Mu- 
retus began to dictate words, Latin, Greek, barbarous, significant 
and non-significant, disjointed and connected, until he wearied 
himself, the young man who wrote them down, and the audience 
who w^ere present; — "we were all," he says, "marvellously 
tired." The Corsican alone was the one of the whole company 
alert and fresh, and continually desired Muretus for more words ; 
who declared he would be more than satisfied, if he could 
repeat the half of what had been taken down, and at length he 
ceased. The young man, with his gaze fixed upon the ground, 
stood silent for a brief season, and then, says Muretus, " vidi 
facinus mirificissimum." Having begun to speak, he absolutely 
repeated \k\^ whole words, in the same order in which they had 



THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 419 

been delivered, witliout the HlIgllte^;t hesitation ; then, com- 
meneing from the last, he repeated them backwards till he came 
to the first. Then again, so that he spoke the first, the third, 
the fifth, and so on ; did this in any order that was asked, and 
all without the smallest error. Having subsequently become 
familiarly acquainted with him, I have had other and frequent 
experience of his power. He assured me (and he had nothing 
of the boaster in him) that he could recite, in the manner I 
have mentioned, to the amount of thirty-six thousand words. 
And what is more wonderful, they all so adhered to the mind 
that, after a year's interval, he could repeat them without trouble. 
I know, from having tried him, he could do so after a consider- 
able time. 

Before passing from the faculty of Memory, considered simply 
as the power of conservation, I may notice tw^o opposite doc- 
trines, that have been maintained, in regard to the relation of 
this faculty to the higher powers of mind. One of these doc- 
trines holds, that a great development of memory is incompatible 
with a high degree of intelligence ; the other, that a high degree 
of intelhgence supposes such a development of memory as its 
condition. 

Great memory and sound judgment not incompatible. — The 
former of these opinions is one very extensively prevalent, not 
only among philosophers, but among mankind in general ; and 
the w^ords — beati memoria, expectantes judicium — have been 
applied to express the supposed incompatibility of great memory 
and sound judgment. There seems, however, no valid ground 
for this belief. If an extraordinary power of retention is fre- 
quently not accompanied with a corresponding power of intelli- 
gence, it is a natural, but not a very logical procedure, to jump 
to the conclusion, that a great memory is inconsistent with a 
sound judgment. The opinion is refuted by the slightest 
induction ; for we immediately find, that many of the individ- 
uals who towered above their fellows in intellectual superiority, 
werti almost equally distinguished for the capacity of their 
memory. I recently quoted to you a passage, in which Joseph 
Scahger is made to say that he had not a good memory, but a 



420 THE CONSERVATIVE FACULTY. 

good reminiscence ; and he immediately adds, " never, or rarely, 
are judgment and a great memory found in conjunction." Of 
this opinion Scaliger himself affords the most illustrious refu- 
tation. During his lifetime, he was hailed as the Dictator of 
the Republic of Letters, and posterity has ratified the decision 
of his contemporaries, in crowning him as the prince of philol- 
ogers and critics. But to elevate a man to such an eminence, 
it is evident, that the most consummate genius and ability wen 
conditions. 

For intellectual power of the highest order, none were dis- 
tinguished above Grotius and Pascal ; and Grotius and Pascal 
forgot nothing they had ever read or thought. Leibnitz and 
Euler were not less celebrated for their intelligence than for 
their memory, and both could repeat the whole of the ^neid. 
Donellus knew the Corpus Juris by heart, and yet he was one 
of the profoundest and most original speculators in jurisprudence. 
Muratori, though not a genius of the very highest order, was 
still a man of great ability and judgment ; and so powerful was 
his retention, that in making quotations, he had only to read his 
passages, put the books in their place, and then to write out 
from memory the words. 

But if there be no ground for the vulgar opinion, that a 
strong faculty of retention is incompatible with intellectual 
capacity in general, the converse opinion is not better founded, 
which has been maintained, among others, by Hoffbauer. 
This doctrine does not, however, deserve an articulate refutation ; 
for the common experience of every one sufficiently proves, that 
intelligence and memory hold no necessary proportion to each 
oiher. 



CHAPTER XXIII, 

THE REPRODUCTIVE FACULTY. — LAWS OF ASSOCIATION.— 
SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 

I NOW pass to the next faculty in order, — the faculty which 
I have called the Reproductive. I am not satisfied with this 
name ; for it does not precisely, of itself, mark what I wish to 
be expressed, — namely, the process by which what is lying dor- 
mant in memory is awakened, as contradistinguished from the 
representation in consciousness of it as awakened. The two 
processes certainly suppose each other ; for we cannot awaken 
a cognition without its being represented, — the representation 
being, in fact, only its state of waking ; nor can a latent thought 
or alfection be represented, unless certain conditions be fulfilled, 
by which it is called out of obscurity into the light of conscious- 
ness. The two processes are relative and correlative, but not 
more identical than hill and valley. I am not satisfied, I say, 
with the term reproduction for the process by which the dormant 
thought or affection is aroused ; for it does not clearly denote 
what it is intended to express. Perhaps the Resuscitative Fac- 
ulty would have been better ; and the term reproduction might 
have been employed to comprehend the whole process, made up 
of the correlative acts of Retention, Resuscitation, and Represen- 
tation. Be this, however, as it may, I shall at present continue to 
employ the term, in the limited meaning I have already assigned. 

The phaenomenon of Reproduction is one of the most won- 
derful in the whole compass of psychology ; and it is one in the 
explanation of which philosophy has been more successful than 
in almost any other. The Scholastic psychologists seem to have 
regarded the succession in the train of thought, or, as they called 
36 (421) 



422 THE REPRODUCTIVE FACUl TY. 

it, the excitation of the species, with peculiar wonder, as one of 
the most inscrutable mysteries of nature ; and yet, what is 
curious, Aristotle has left almost as complete an analysis of the 
laws by which this phaenomenon is regulated, as has yet been 
accomplished. It required, however, a considerable progress in 
the inductive philosophy of mind, before this analysis of Aris- 
totle could be appreciated at its proper value ; and in fact, it 
was only after modern philosophers had rediscovered the prin- 
cipal laws of Association, that it was found that these laws had 
been more completely given two thousand years before. 

The faculty of Reproduction is governed by the laws which 
regulate the Association of the mental train ; or, to speak more 
correctly, Reproduction is nothing but the result of these laws. 
Every one is conscious of a ceaseless succession or train of 
thoughts, one thought suggesting another, which again is the 
cause of exciting a third, and so on. In what manner, it may 
be asked, does the presence of any thought determine the 
introduction of another ? Is the train subject to laws, and if so, 
by what laws is it regulated ? 

The train of thought subject to laws. — That the elements of 
the mental train are not isolated, but that each thought forms a 
link of a continuous and uninterrupted chain, is well illustrated 
by Hobbes. " In a company," he says, " in which the conver- 
sation turned upon the late civil war, what could be conceived 
more impertinent than for a person to ask abruptly, what was 
the value of a Roman denarius ? On a little reflection, how- 
ever, I was easily able to trace the train of thought which 
suggested the question ; for the original subject of discourse 
naturally introduced the history of the king, and of the treach- 
ery of those who surrendered his person t ) his enemies ; this 
again introduced the treachery of Judas Iscariot, and the sum 
of money which he received for his reward." 

But if thoughts, and feelings, and conations (for you must 
observe, that the train is not limited to the phaenomena of 
cognition only), do not arise of themselves, but only in casual 
connection with preceding and subsequent modifications of mind, 
it remains to be asked and answered, — Do the links of this 



THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 4:3 

chain follow each other under any other condition than that of 
simple connection ? — in other words, mai/ any thought^ feeling, 
or desire be connected with any other '^ Or^ is the succession 
regulated by other and special laws, according to which certain 
kinds of modification exclusively precede, and exclusively fol- 
low, each other ? The slightest observation of the phgenomenon 
shows, that the latter alternative is the case ; and on this all 
philosophers are agreed. Nor do philosophers differ in regard 
to what kind of thoughts are associated together. They differ 
almost exclusively in regard to the subordinate question, of how 
these thoughts ought to be classified, and carried up into system. 
This, therefore, is the question to which I shall address myself. 

The laws of Association — how classified, — I have explained 
to you how thoughts, once experienced, remain, though out of 
consciousness, still in possession of the mind ; and I have now 
to show, how these thoughts retained in memory may, without 
any excitation from without, be again retrieved by an excitation 
or awakening from other thoughts within. Philosophers having 
observed, that one thought determined another to arise, and that 
this deter n^inati on only took place between thoughts which stood 
in certain relations to each other, set themselves to ascertain and 
classify the kinds of correlation under which this occurred, in 
order to generalize the laws by which the phaenomenon of Re- 
production was governed. Accordingly it has been established, 
that thoughts are associated, that is, are able to excite each 
other; — 1°, If coexistent, or immediately successive, in time; 
2°, If their objects are conterminous or adjoining in space ; 3°, 
If they hold the dependence to each other of cause and effect, 
or of mean and end, or of whole and part ; 4°, If they stand in 
\ relation either of contrast or of similarity ; 5°, If they are the 
operations of the same power, or of different powers conversant 
ibout the same object; 6*^, If their objects are the sign and the 
signified; or, 7°j Even if their objects are accidentally denoted 
by l^e same sound. 

T\^.ese, as far as I recollect, are all the classes to which phi- 
losophers have attempted to reduce the principles of Mental 
4j^ociation. Aristotle recalled the laws of this connection to 



424 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 

four, or rather to three, — Contiguity in time and space^ Resem- 
blance, and Contrariety. He even seems to have thought they 
might all be carried up into the one law of Coexistence. St. 
Augustin explicitly reduces association to a single canon, — 
namely. Thoughts that have once coexisted in the mind are af- 
terwards associated. This law, which I would call the law of 
Redintegration, was afterwards enounced by Malebranche, Wolf, 
and Bilfinger ; but without any reference to St. Austin. Hume, 
who thinks himself the first philosopher who had ever attempted 
to generalize the laws of association, makes them three, — Re- 
semblance, Contiguity in time and place, and Cause and Effect. 
Stewart, after disclaiming any attempt at a complete enumera- 
tion, mentions two classes of circumstances as useful to be 
observed. " The relations," he says, " upon which some of them 
are founded, are perfectly obvious to the mind ; those which are 
the foundation of others, are discovered only in consequence of 
particular efforts of attention. Of the former kind are the rela- 
tions of Resemblance and Analogy, of Contrariety, of Vicinity 
in time and place, and those which arise from accidental coinci- 
dences in the sound of different words. These, in general, con- 
nect our thoughts together, when they are suffered to take their 
natural course, and when we are conscious of little or no active 
exertion. Of the latter kind are the relations of Cause and 
Effect, of Means and End, of Premises and Conclusion ; and 
those others which regulate the train of thought in the mind 
of the philosopher, when he is engaged in a particular investi- 
gation." 

Brown divides the circumstances affecting association into 
primary and secondary. Under the primary laws of Suggestion, 
he includes Resemblance, Contrast, Contiguity in time and place, 
— a classification identical with Aristotle's. By the secondary, 
he means the vivacity, the recentness, and the frequent repeti- 
tion of our thoughts ; circumstances which, though they exert 
an influence on the recurrence of our thoughts, belong to a 
different order of causes from those we are at present consider- 
ing. 

These laws reduced to two^ and even to one. — Now all the 



rrlE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 425 

laws which I have hitherto enumerated may be easily reduced 
to two, — the law of the Simidtanelty^ and the law of the Resem-' 
hlance or Affinity^ of Thought. Under Simultaneity I include 
Immediate Consecution in time ; to the other category of Affin- 
ity every other circumstance may be reduced. I shall take the 
several cases 1 have above enumerated, and having exemplified 
their influence as associating principles, I shall show how they 
are all only special modifications of the two laws of Simulta- 
neity and Affinity ; which two lavs^s, I shall finally prove to you, 
are themselves only modifications of one supreme law, — the 
law of Redintegration, 

The law of Simultaneity. — The first law, — that of Simul- 
taneity, or of Coexistence and Immediate Succession in time, — 
is too evident to require any illustration. " In passing along a 
road," as Mr. Stewart observes, " which we have formerly trav- 
elled in the company of a friend, the particulars of the conver- 
sation in vrhich v/e were then engaged, are frequently suggested 
to us by the objects we meet with. In such a scene, we recol- 
lect that a particular subject was started ; and in passing the 
different houses, and plantations, and rivers, the arguments we 
were discussing when we last saw them recur spontaneously to 
the memory. The connection which is formed in the mind be- 
tween the words of a language and the ideas they denote; the 
connection which is formed between the different words of a 
discourse we have committed to memory ; the connection be- 
tween the different notes of a piece of music in the mind of the 
musician, are all obvious instances of the same general law of 
our nature." 

The law of Affinity, — The second law, — that of the Affinity 
of thoughts, — will be best illustrated by the cases of which it 
is the more general expression. In the first place, in the case 
of resembling^ or analogous^ or partially identical objects, it will 
not be denied that these virtually suggest each other. The im- 
agination of Alexander carries me to the imagination of Caesar, 
Caesar to Charlemagne, Charlemagne to Napoleon. The vision 
of a portrait suggests the image of the person portrayed. In a 
company one anecdote suggests another analogous. That re- 

36* 



' 426 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 

sembling, analogous, or partially identical objects stand in recip- 
rocal Affinity, is apparent ; they are its strongest exemplifications. 
So far there is no difficulty. 

In the second place, thoughts standing to each other in the 
relation of contrariety or contrast are mutually suggestive. 
Thus the thought of vice suggests the thought of virtue ; and, 
in the mental world, the prince and the peasant, kings and beg- 
gars, are inseparable concomitants. On this principle are de- 
pendent those associations which constitute the charms of 
antithesis and wit. Thus the whole pathos of Milton's apos- 
trophe to light lies in the contrast of his own darkness to the 
resplendent object he addresses. And in what else does the 
beauty of the following line consist, but m the contrast and 
connection of life and death ; life being represented as but a 
wayfaring from grave to grave ? 

T/f ^Ioq; — e/c TVfLfjOLO d-opdv, em tv{i(3ov dSevo). 

Who can think of Mariu.^ sitting amid the ruins of Carthage, 
without thinking of the resemblance of the consul and the city, 
- — without thinking of the difference between their past and 
present fortunes ? And in the incomparable epigram of Molsa 
on the great Pompey, the effect is produced by the contrast of 
the life and death of the hero, and in the conversion of the very 
fact of his posthumous dishonor into a theme of the noblest 
panegyric. 

" Dux, Pharia quamvis jaceas inhumatus arena, 
Noil ideo fati est ssevior ira tui : 
Indignum fuerat tellus tibi victa sepulcrum ; 
Non decuit ccelo, te, nisi, Magne, tegi." 

Thus that objects, though contrasted, are still akin, — still 
stand to each other in a relation of Affinity, depends on their 
logical analogy. The axiom, that the knowledge of contraries 
is one, proves that the thought of the one involves the thought 
of the other. 

In the thi7^d place, objects contiguous in place are associated. 
Tou recollect the famous passage of Cicero in the first chapter 



THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 427* 

of the fifth book De Finihus^ of which the following is the con- 
clusion : — " Tanta vis admonitionis est in locis, ut, non sine 

causa, ex his memoriae deducta sit discipllna Id quidem 

infinitum in hac urbe ; quocumque enim ingredimur, in aliquam 
historiam vestigium ponimus." But how do objects adjacent in 
place stand in Afiinity to each other ? Simply because local 
contiguity binds up objects, otherwise unconnected, into a single 
object of perceptive thought. 

In the fourth place, thoughts of the whole and the parts, of 
the thing and its properties, of the sign and the thing signified, 
— of these it is superfluous to illustrate either the reality of the 
influence, or to show that they are only so many forms of Affin- 
ity ; both are equally manifest. But in this case Affinity is not 
the only principle of association ; here Simultaneity also occurs. 
One observation I may make to show, that what Mr. Stewart 
promulgates as a distinct principle of association, is only a sub- 
ordinate modification of the two great laws I have laid down ; — 
I mean his association of objects arising from accidental coinci- 
dences in the sound of the words by which they are denoted. 
Here the association between the objects or ideas is not immedi- 
ate. One object or idea signified suggests its term signifying. 
But a complete or partial identity in sound suggests another 
word, and 'that word suggests the thing or thought it signifies. 
The two things or thoughts are thus associated, only mediately, 
through the association of their signs, and the several immedi- 
ate associations are very simple examples of the general laws. 

In the fifth place, thoughts of causes and efifects reciprocally 
suggest each other. Thus the falling snow excites the imag- 
ination of an inundation ; a shower of hail, a thought of the 
destruction of the fruit ; the sight of wine carries us back to 
the grapes, or the sight of the grapes carries us forward to the 
wine ; and so forth. But cause and effect not only naturally, 
but necessarily, suggest each other ; they stand in the closest 
Affinity ; and, therefore, whatever phsenomena are subsumed 
under this relation, as indeed under all relations, are, conse- 
quently, also in Affinity. 

One grand law of Redintegration. — I have now, I think, 



428 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION". 

gone through all the circumstances which philosophers liave 
constituted into separate laws of Association ; and shown that 
they easily resolve themselves into the two laws of Simultaneity 
and Affinity. I now proceed to show you, that these two laws 
themselves are reducible to that one law, which I would call the 
law of Redintegration or Totality, which, as I already stated, I 
have found incidentally expressed by St. Augustin. This law 
may be thus enounced, — Those thoughts suggest each other which 
had 'previously constituted parts of the same entire or total act 
of cognition, Now to the same entire or total act belong, as 
integral or constituent parts, in the first place, those thoughts 
which arose at the same time, or in immediate consecution ; and 
in the second, those thoughts which are bound up into one by 
their mutual affinity. Thus, therefore, the two laws of Simul- 
taneity and Affinity are carried up into unity, in the higher law 
of Redintegration or Totality ; and by this one law the whole 
phenomena of Association may be easily explained. 

The law of Redintegration explained, — But this law being 
established by induction and generalization, and affi3rding an 
explanation of the various phsenomena of Association, it may 
be asked, How is this law itself explained ? On what principle 
of our intellectual nature is it founded ? To this no answer can 
be legitimately demanded. It is enough for the natural philos- 
opher, to reduce the special laws of the attraction of distant 
bodies to the one principle of gravitation ; and his theory is not 
invalidated, because he can give no account of how gravitation 
is itself determined. In all our explanations of the phsenomena 
of mind and matter, we must always arrive at an ultimate fact 
or law, of which we are wholly unable to affiord an ulterior ex- 
planation. We are, therefore, entitled to decline attempting any 
illustration of the ground on which the supreme fact or law of 
Association reposes ; and if we do attempt such illustration, and 
fail in the endeavor, no presumption is, therefore, justly to be 
raised against the truth of the fact or principle itself. 

But an illustration of this great law is involved in the princi- 
ple of the unity of the mental e4.ergies, as the activities of the 
subject one and indivisible, to which I have had occasion to 



THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 429, 

refer. " The various acts of mind," [says Schmid,] " must not 
be viewed as single, — as isolated, manifestations ; they all belong 
to the one activity of the Ego : and, consequently, if our s'arious 
mental energies are only partial modifications of the same general 
activity, they must all be associated among themselves. Every 
mental energy, — every thought, feeling, desire that is excited, 
excites at the same time all other previously existent activities, 
in a certain degree ; it spreads its excitation over the whole 
activities of the mind, as the agitation of one place of a sheet 
of water expands itself, in wider and wider circles, over the 
whole surface of the fluid, although, in proportion to its eccen- 
tricity, it is always becoming fainter, until it is at last not to be 
perceived. The force of everj internal activity exists only in 
a certain limited degree ; consequently, the excitation it deter- 
mines has only likewise a certain limited power of expansion, 
and is continually losing in vigor in proportion to its eccentricity. 
Thus there are formed particular centres, particular spheres, 
of internal unity, within which the activities stand to each other 
in a closer relation of action and reaction ; and this, in proportion 
as they more or less belong already to a single energy, — hi 
proportion as they gravitate more or less proximately to the 
same centre of action. A plurality, a comj^lement, of several 
activities forms, in a stricter sense, one whole activity for itself; 
an invigoration of any of its several 'activities is, therefore, an 
invigoration of the part of a whole activity ; and as a part 
cannot be active for itself alone, there, consequently, results an 
invigoration of the whole, that is, of all the other parts of which 
it is composed. Thus the supreme law of association, — that 
activities excite each other in proportion as they have previously 
belonged, as parts, to one whole activity, — is explained from 
the still more universal principle of the unity of all our mental 
energies in general. 

'' " But on the same principle, we can also explain the two subal- 
tern laws of Simultaneity and Affinity. The phsenomena of 
mind are manifested under a twofold condition or form ; for they 
are only revealed, 1°, As occurrences in time ; and, 2°, As the 
energies or modifications of the Eo:o. as their cause and subject. 



430 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 

Time and Self are thus the two forms of the internal world. 
By these two forms, therefore, every particular, every limited, 
unity of operation, must be controlled ; — on them it must depend. 
And it is precisely these two forms that lie at the root of the 
two laws of Simultaneity and Affinity. Thus acts which are 
exerted at the same time belong, by that very circumstance, to 
the same particular unity, — to the same definite sphere of 
mental energy ; in other words, constitute through their simul- 
taneity a single activity. Thus energies, however heterogeneous 
in themselves, if developed at once, belong to the same activity, 
— constitute a particular unity ; and they will operate with a 
greater suggestive influence on each other, in proportion as they 
are more closely connected by the bond of time. On the other 
hand, the affinity of mental acts or modifications will be deter- 
mined by their particular relations to the Ego, as their cause or 
subject. As all the activities of mind obtain a unity in being 
all the energies of the same soul or active principle in general, 
so they are bound up into particular unities, inasmuch as they 
belong to some particular faculty, — resemble each other in the 
common ground of their manifestation. Thus cognitions, feel- 
ings, and volitions severally awaken cognitions, feelings, and 
volitions ; for they severally belong to the same faculty, and, 
through that identity, are themselves constituted into distinct 
unities : or again, a thought of the cause suggests a thought of 
the effect, a thought of the mean suggests a thought of the end, 
a thought of the part suggests a thought of the whole ; for cause 
and effect, end and mean, whole and parts, have subjectively an 
indissoluble affinity, as they are all so many forms or organi- 
zations of thought. In hke manner, the notions of all resembling 
objects suggest each other, for they possess some common quality, 
through which they are in thought bound up in a single act of 
thought. Even the notions of opposite and contrasted objects 
mutually excite each other upon the same principle ; for these 
are logically associated, inasmuch as, by the laws of thought, 
the notion of one opposite necessarily involves the notions of the 
other ; and it is also a psychological law, that contrasted objects 
relieve ^.ach other. Opposita, juxta posita, se invicem colliistranL 



THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 431 

Wlien the operations of different faculties are mutually sug- 
gestive, they are, likewise, internally connected by the nature of 
their action ; for they are either conversant with the same object, 
and have thus been originally determined by the same affection 
from without, or they have originally been associated through 
some form of the mind itself; thus moral cognitions, moral 
feelings, and moral volitions, may suggest each other, through 
the common bond of morality ; the moral principle in this case 
uniting the operations of the three fundamental powers into one 
general activity." 

How thoughts apparently unassociated succeed each other, — 
It sometimes happens, that thoughts seem to follow each other 
immediately, between which it is impossible to detect any bond 
of association. If this anomaly be insoluble, the whole theory 
of association is overthrown. Philosophers have accordingly 
set themselves to account for this phosnomenon. To deny the 
fact of the phaenomenon is impossible ; it must, therefore, be 
explained on the hypothesis of association. Now, in their at- 
tempts at such an explanation, all philosophers agree in regard 
to the first step of the solution, but they differ in regard to the 
second. They agree in this, — that, admitting the apparent, the 
phasnomenal, immediacy of the consecution of the two unasso- 
ciated thoughts, they deny its reality. They all affirm, that 
there have actually intervened one or more thoughts, through 
the mediation of which, the suggestion in question has been 
affected, and on the assumption of which intermediation, the 
theory of association remains intact. For example, let us sup- 
pose that A and C are thoughts, not on any law of association 
suggestive of each other, and that A and C appear to our con- 
sciousness as following each other immediately. In this case, I 
say, philosophers agree in supposing, that a thought B, associ- 
ated with A and with C, and which consequently could be 
awakened by A, and could awaken C, has intervened. So far 
they are at one. But now comes their separation. It is asked, 
how can a thought be supposed to intervene, of which conscious- 
ness gives us no indication ? In reply to this, two answers have 
been made. By one set of philosophers, among whom I may 



432 THE LAWS OF ASSOCIATION. 

particularly specify Mr. Stewart, it is said, that the immediate 
thought B, having been awakened by A, did rise into conscious- 
ness, suggested C, and was instantly forgotten. This solution 
is apparently that exclusively known in Britain. Other philos- 
ophers, following the indication of Leibnitz^ by whom the theory 
of obscure or latent activities was first explicitly promulgated, 
maintain that the intermediate thought never did rise into con- 
sciousness. They hold that A excited B, but that the excite- 
ment was not strong enough to rouse B from its state of latency, 
though strong enough to enable it obscurely to excite C, whose 
latency was less, and to afford it vivacity* sufficient to rise into 
consciousness. 

Explained through the latent modifications of mind, — Of 
these opinions, I have no hesitation in declaring for the latter. 
I formerly showed you an analysis of some of the most palpable 
and familiar phsenomena of mind, which made the supposition 
of mental modifications latent, but not inert, one of absolute 
necessity. In particular, I proved this in regard to the phasnom- 
ena of Perception. But the fact of such latencies being estab- 
lished in one faculty, they afford an easy and philosophical 
explanation of the phasnomena in all. In the present instance, 
if we admit, as admit we must, that activities can endure, and 
consequently can operate, out of consciousness, the question is 
at once solved. On this doctrine, the whole theory of associa- 
tion obtains an easy and natural completion ; as no definite line 
can be drawn between clear and obscure activities, which melt 
insensibly into each ; and both, being of the same nature, must 
be supposed to operate under the same laws. In illustration of 
the mediatory agency of latent thoughts in the process of sug- 
gestion, I formerly alluded to an analogous phaenomenon under 
the laws of physical motion, which I may again call to your 
remembrance. If a series of elastic balls, say of ivory, are 
placed in a straight line, and in mutual contact, and if the^ first 
be sharply struck, what happens ? The intermediate balls re- 
main at rest ; the last alone is moved. 

The other doctrine, which proceeds upon the hypothesis that 
we can be conscious of a thought and that thought be instantly 



SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 433 

forgotten, has every thing against it, and nothing in its fa^or. 
In the first place, it does not, like the counter hypothesis of la- 
tent agencies, only apply a principle which is already proved to 
exist ; it, on the contrary, lays its foundation in a fact which is 
not shown to be real. But in the second place, this fact is not 
only not shown to be real : it is iniprobable, — nay, impossible ; 
for it contradicts the whole analogy of the intellectual phaenomena. 
The memory or retention of a thought is in proportion to its 
vivacity in consciousness ; but that all trace of its existence 
so, completely perished with its presence, that reproduction be- 
came impossible, even the instant after, — this assumption vio- 
lates every probability, in gratuitously disallowing the established 
law of the proportion between consciousness and memory. But 
on this subject, having formerly spoken, it is needless now agam 
to dwell. 

So much for the Laws of Association, — the laws to which the 
faculty of Reproduction is subjected. 

Spontaneous Suggestion and Reminiscence, — This faculty, I 
formerly mentioned, might be considered as operating, either 
spontaneously, without any interference of the will, or as modi- 
fied in its action by the intervention of volition. In the one 
case, as in the .other, the Reproductive Faculty acts in subservi- 
ence to its own laws. In the former case, one thought is allowed 
to suggest another according to the greater general connection 
subsisting between them ; in the latter, the act of volition, by 
concentrating attention upon a certain determinate class of as- 
sociating circumstances, bestows on these circumstances an ex- 
traordinary vivacity, and, consequently, enables them to obtain 
the preponderance, and exclusively to determine the succession 
of the intellectual train. The former of these cases, where the 
Reproductive Faculty is left wholly to itself, may not improperly 
be called Spontaneous Suggestion, or Suggestion simply ; the 
latter ought to obtain the name of Reminiscence or Recollection, 
(in Greek dvdfJLVTjaig), The employment of these terms in 
these significations corresponds with the meaning they obtam 
in common usage. Philosophers have not, however, always so 
applied them. But as I have not entered on a criticism of the 

a? 



434 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 

analyses attempted by philosophers of the faculties, so I shall say 
nothing in illustration of their perversion of the terms by which 
they have denoted them. 

Recollection or Reminiscence supposes two things. " First, it 
is necessary that the mind recognize the ijentity of two repre- 
sentations, and then, it is necessary that the mind be conscious 
of something different from the first impression, in consequence 
of which it affirms to itself that it had formerly experienced 
this modification. It is passing marvellous, this conviction that 
we have of the identity of two representations ; for they ar^ 
only similar, not the same. Were they the same, it would be 
impossible to discriminate the thought reproduced from the 
thought originally experienced." This circumstance justly ex- 
cited the admiration of St. Augustin, and he asks how, if we 
had actually forgotten a thing, we could so categorically affirm, 
— it is not that, when some one named to us another ; or, it is 
that, when it is itself presented. The question was worthy of 
his subtlety, and the answer does honor to his penetration. His 
principle is, that we cannot seek in our own memory for that of 
which we have no sort of recollection. We do not seek what hai 
been our first reflective thought in infancy, the first reasoning 
we have performed, the first free act which raised us above the 
rank of automata. We are conscious that the attempt would 
be fruitless ; and even if modifications thus lost should chance 
to recur to our mind, we should not be able to say with truth 
that we had recollected them, for we should have no criterion by 
which to recognize them. And what is the consequence he de- 
duces ? It is worthy of your attention. 

From the moment, then, that we seek aught in our memory, 
we declare, by that very act, that we have not altogether for 
gotten it ; we still hold of it, as it were, a part, and by this part, 
which we hold, we seek that which we do not hold. And what 
is the secret motive which determines us to this research ? It 
is that our memory feels, that it does not see together all that it 
was accustomed to see together. It feels with regret that it still 
only discovers a part of itself, and hence its disquietude to seek 
out what is missing, in order to reannex it to the whole ; like to 



SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE, 435 

those reptiles, if the comparison may be permitted, whose mem- 
bers, 'when cut asunder, seek again to reunite. But when this 
detached portion of our memory at length presents itself, — the 
name, for example, of a person, which had escaped us, — how 
shall we proceed to reannex it to the other ? We have only to 
allow nature to do her work. For if the name, being pro- 
nounced, goes of itself to reunite itself to the thought of the 
person, and to place itself, so to speak, upon his face, as upon 
its ordinary seat, we will say, without hesitation, — there it is. 
And if, on the contrary, it obstinately refuses to go there to 
place itself, in order to rejoin the thought to which we had else 
attached it, we will say peremptorily and at once, — no, it does 
not suit. But when it suits, where do we discover this luminous 
accordance which consummates our research ? And where can 
we discover it, except in our memory itself, — in some back 
chamber, I mean, of that labyrinth where what we considered 
as lost had only gone astray. And the proof of this is manifest. 
When the name presents itself to our mind, it appears neither 
novel nor strange, but old and familiar, like an ancient property 
of which we have recovered the title-deeds. 

Such is the doctrine of one of the profoundest thinkers of 
antiquity, and whose philosophical opinions, were they collected, 
arranged, and illustrated, would raise him to as high a rank 
among metaphysicians, as he already holds among theologians. 

The consecutive order of association not the only one, — 
" Among psychologists," [says Cardaillac,] " those who have 
written on Memory and Reproduction with the greatest detail 
and precision, have still failed in giving more than a meagre 
outline of these operations. They have taken account only of 
the notions which suggest each other with a distinct and palpa- 
ble notoriety. They have viewed the associations only in the 
order in which language is competent to express them ; and as 
language, which renders them still more palpable and distinct, 
can only express them in a consecutive order, — can only express 
them one after another, they have been led to suppose that 
thoughts only awaken in succession. Thus, a series of ideas 
mutually associated resembles, on the doctrine of philosophers, 



436 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 

a chain, in which every link draws up that which folio w-s ; and 
it is by" means of these links that intelligence labors through, in 
the act of reminiscence, to the end which it proposes to attain. 
" There are some, indeed, among them, who are ready to ac- 
knowledge, that every actual circumstance is associated to sev- 
eral fundamental notions, and, consequently, to several chains, be- 
tween which the mind may choose ; they admit even, that every 
link is attached to several others, so that the whole forms a hind 
of trellis^ — a kind of net-work^ which the mind may traverse in 
every direction^ but still always in a single direction at once, — 
always in a succession similar to that of speech. This manner 
of explaining reminiscence is founded solely on this, ^ — that, 
content to have observed all that is distinctly manifest in the 
phsenomenon, they have paid no attention to the under play of 
the latescent activities, — paid no attention to all that custom 
conceals, and conceals the more effectually in proportion as it is 
more completely blended with the natural agencies of mind. 
; The movement of thought from one order of subjects to another. 

^ "b — " Thus their theory, true in itself, and departing from a well- 
K " established principle, the Association of Ideas, explains in a 
satisfactory manner a portion of the phssnomena of Reminis- 
cence ; but it is incomplete, for it is unable to account for the 
prompt, easy, and varied -operation of this faculty, or for all the 
marvels it performs. On the doctrine of the philosophers, we 
can explain how a scholar repeats, without hesitation, a lesson 
he has learned, for all the words are associated in his mind 
according to the order in which he has studied them ; how he 
demonstrates a geometrical theorem, the parts of which are 
connected together in the same manner ; these and similar 
reminiscences of simple successions present no difficulties which 
the common doctrine cannot resolve. But it is impossible, on 
this doctrine, to explain the rapid and certain movement of 
thought, which, with a marvellous facility, passes from one. order 
of subjects to another, only to return again to the first ; which 
advances, retrogrades, deviates, and reverts, sometimes marking 
all the points on its route, again clearing, as if in play, immense 
intervals ; which runs over, now in a manifest order, now in a 



SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 437 

seeming irregularity, all the notions relative to an object, often 
relative to several, between which no connection could be sus- 
pected ; and this without hesitation, without uncertainty, without 
error, as the hand of a skilful musician expatiates over the keys 
of the most complex organ. All this is inexplicable on the 
meagre and contracted theory on which the phasnomena of Re- 
production have been thought explained. 

Two conditions of Reminiscence, — " To form a correct notion 
of the phasnomena of Reminiscence, it is requisite, that we 
consider under what conditions it is determined to exertion. In 
the first place, it is to be noted that, at every crisis of our exist- 
ence, momentary circumstances are the causes which awaken 
our activity, and set our recollection at work to supply the nec- 
essaries of thought. In the second place, it is as constituting a 
want (and by want^ I mean the result either of an act of desire 
or of volition), that the determining circumstance tends princi- 
pally to awaken the thoughts with which it is associated. This 
being the case, we should expect that each circumstance which 
constitutes a want should suggest, likewise, the notion of an 
object, or objects, proper to satisfy it ; and this is what actually 
happens. It is, however, further to be observed, that it is not 
enough that the want suggests the idea of the object ; for if that 
idea were alone, it would remain without effect, since it could 
not guide me in the procedure I should follow. It is necessary, 
at the same time, that, to the idea of this object there should be 
associated tl^e notion of the relation of this object to the want, 
of the place where I may find it, of the means by which I may 
procure it, and turn it to account, etc. For instance, I wish to 
make a quotation : — this want awakens in me the idea of the 
author in whom the passage is to be found, which I am desirous 
of citing ; but this idea would be fruitless, unless there were 
conjoined, at the same time, the representation of the volume, 
of the place where I may obtain it', of the means I must eji- 
ploy, etc. 

Accessory notions awakened, — " Hence I infer, in the first 
place, that a want does not awaken an idea of its object alone, 
but that it awakens it accompanied with a number, more or less 

37=* 



438 SUGGESTION AND EEMINISCENCE. 

considerable, of accessory notions, which form, as it were, its 
train or attendance. This train may vary according to the nature 
of the want which suggests the notion of an object ; but the 
train can never fall wholly off, and it becomes more indissolubly 
attached to the object, in proportion as it has been more fre- 
quently called up in attendance. 

"I infer, in the second place, that this accompaniment of 
accessory notions, simultaneously suggested with the principal 
idea, is far from being as vividly and distinctly represented in 
consciousness as that idea itself; and when these accessories 
have once been completely blended with the habits of the mind, 
and its reproductive agency, they at length finally disappear, 
becoming fused, as it were, in the consciousness of the idea to 
which they are attached. Experience proves this double effect 
of the habits of Reminiscence. If we observe our operations 
relative to the gratification of a want, we shall perceive that we 
are far from having a clear consciousness of the accessory 
notions ; the consciousness of them is, as it were, obscured, and 
yet we cannot doubt that they are present to the mind, for it is 
they that direct our procedure in all its details. 

These accessory notions unknown to consciousness, — "We 
must, therefore, I think, admit that the thought of an object 
immediately suggested by a desire, is always accompanied by 
an escort, more or less numerous, of accessory thoughts, equally 
present to the mind, though, in general, unknown in themselves 
to consciousness ; that these accessories are not without their 
influence in guiding the operations elicited by the principal 
notion ; and, it may even be added, that they are so much the 
more calculated to exert an effect in the conduct of our proced- 
ure, in proportion as, having become more part and parcel of 
our habits of Reproduction, the influences they exert are further 
withdrawn, in ordinary, from the ken of consciousness." The 
same thing may be illustrated by what happens to us in the case 
of reading. Originally, each word, each letter, was a separate 
object of consciousness. At length, the knowledge of letters 
and words and hues being, as it were, fused into our habits, we 
no longer have any distinct consciousness of them, as severally 



SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 439 

concurring to the result, of which alone we are conscious. But 
that each word and letter has its effect, — an effect which can, at 
any moment, become an object of consciousness, is shown by the 
following experiment. If we look over a book for the occurrence 
of a particular name or word, we glance our eye over a page 
from top to bottom, and ascertain, almost in a moment, that it is 
or is not to be found therein. Here the mind is hardly con- 
scious of a single word, but that of which it is in quest ; but yet 
it is evident, that each other word and letter must have pro- 
duced an obscure effect, and which effect the mind was ready 
to discriminate and strengthen, so as to call it into clear con- 
sciousness, whenever the effect was found to be that which the 
letters of the word sought for could determine. But, if the 
mind be not unaffected by the multitude of letters and words 
which it surveys, if it be able to ascertain whether the combi- 
nation of letters constituting the word it seeks, be or be not 
actually among them, and all this without any distinct conscious- 
ness of all it tries and finds defective, — why may we not sup- 
pose, — why are we not bound to suppose, that the mind may, 
in like manner, overlook its book of memory, and search among 
its magazines of latescent cognitions for the notions of w^hich it 
is in want, awakening these into consciousness, and allowing the 
others to remain in their obscurity ? 

£^ach accessory thought calls up other thoughts. — "A more 
attentive consideration of the subject," [et>ntinues Cardaillac,] 
" will show, that we have not yet divined the faculty of Remin- 
iscence in its whole extent. Let us make a single reflection. 
Continually struck by relations of every kind, continually as* 
sailed by a crowd of perceptions and sensations of every variety, 
and, at the same time, occupied with a complement of thoughts \ 
we experience at once, and we are more or less distinctly con^ 
scious of, a considerable number of wants, — wants sometimeg 
real, sometimes factitious or imaginary, — phgenomena, however, 
all stamped with the same characters, and all stimulating us to 
act with more or less of energy. And as we choose among tho 
different wants which we would satisfy, as well as among the 
different means of satisfying that want which we determine to 



440 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 

prefer ; and as the motives of tliis preference are taken either 
from among the principal ideas relative to each of these several 
wants, or from among the accessory ideas which habit has estab- 
lished into their necessary escorts; — in all these case?, it is re-^ 
quisite that all the circumstances should at once, and from the 
moment they have taken the character of wants, produce an 
effect correspondent to that which, we have seen, is caused by 
each in particular. Hence we are compelled to conclude, tli^t 
the complement of the circumstances by which we are thus 
affected, has the effect of rendering always present to us, and, 
consequently, of placing at our disposal, an immense number of 
thoughts; some of .which certainly are distinctly recognized, 
being accompanied by a vivid consciousness, but the greater 
number of which, although remaining latent, are not the less 
effective in continually exercising their peculiar influence on 
our modes of judging and acting. 

" We might say, that each of these momentary circumstances, 
is a kind of electric shock which is communicated to a certain 
portion, — to a certain limited sphere, of intelligence ; and the 
sum of all these circumstances is equal to so many shocks, which, 
given at once at so many different points, produce a general 
agitation. We may form some rude conception of this phaenom- 
enon by an analogy. We may compare it, in the former case, 
to those concentric circles which are presented to our observa- 
tion on a smooth sheet of water, when its surface is agitated by 
throwing in a pebble ; and, in the latter case, to the same sur- 
face when agitated by a number of pebbles thrown simultan- 
eously at different points. 

" To obtain a clearer notion of this phsenomenon, I may add 
some observations on the relations of our thoughts among them- 
selves^ and with the determining circumstances of the moment. 

" 1°, Among the thoughts, notions, or ideas which belong to 
the different groups, attached to the principal representations 
simultaneously awakened, there are some reciprocally connected 
by relations proper to themselves ; so that, in this whole com- 
plement of coexistent activities, these tend to excite each other 
to higher vigor, and, consequently, to obtain for themselves a 



SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 441 

kind of preeminence in the group or particular circle of activity 
to which they belong. 

" 2^, There are thoughts associated, whether as principals or 
accessories, to a greater number of determining circumstances, 
or to circumstances which recur more frequently. Hence they 
present themselves oftener than the others, they enter more 
completely into our habits, and take, in a more absolute manner, 
the character of customary or habitual notions. It hence results, 
that they are less obtrusive, though more energetic, in their in- 
fllience, enacting, as they do, a principal part in almost all our 
deliberations ; and exercising a stronger influence on our deter- 
minations. 

"3^, Among this great crowd of thoughts, simultaneously 
excited, those which are connected with circumstances which 
more vividly affect us, assume not only the ascendant over others 
of the same description with themselves, but likewise predomi- 
nate over all those which are dependent on circumstances of a 
feebler determining influence. 

" From these three considerations, we ought, therefore, to 
infer, that the thoughts connected with circumstances on which 
our attention is more specially concentrated, are those which 
prevail over the others ; for the effect of attention is to render 
dominant and exclusive the object on which it is directed, and 
during the moment of attention, it is the circumstance to which 
we attend t^>at necessarily obtains the ascendant. 

" Thus if we appreciate correctly the phgenomena of Repro- 
duction or Reminiscence, we shall recognize, as an incontestable 
fact, that our thoughts suggest each other, not one by one suc- 
cessively, as the order to which language is astricted mighl 
lead* us to infer; but that the complement of circumstance? 
under which we at every moment exist, awakens simultaneouslj 
a great number of thoughts ; these it calls into the presence oi 
the mind, either to place them at our disposal, if we find it re 
quisite to employ them, or to make them cooperate in our de- 
liberations, by giving them, according to their nature and our 
habits, an influence, more or less active, on our judgments and 
consequent acts. , 



442 SUGGESTION AND REMINISCENCE. 

" It is also to be observed, that in this great crowd of thoughtv*^ 
always present to the mind,, there is only a small number of 
which we are distinctly conscious : and that in this small num- 
ber, we ought to distinguish those which, being clothed in lan- 
guage oral or mental, become the objects of a more fixed atten- 
tion ; those which hold a closer relation to circumstances more 
impressive than others ; or which receive a predominant char- 
acter by the more vigorous attention we bestow on them. As 
to the others, although not the objects of clear consciousness, 
they are nevertheless present to the mind, there to perform, a 
very important part as motive principles of determination ; and 
the influence which they exert in this capacity is even the more 
powerful in pr< portion as it is less apparent, being more dis- 
guised by habit 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. — IMAGINATION. 

Having terminated the separate consideration of the two 
drst of the three correlative processes of Retention, Reproduc- 
tion, and Representation, I proceed to^the special discussion of 
the last, — the Representative Faculty. 

By the faculty of Representation, as I formerly mentioned, I 
mean strictly the power the mind has of holding up vividly 
before itself the thoughts which, by the act of Reproduction, it 
has recalled* into consciousness. Though the processes of Rep- 
resentation and Reproduction cannot exist independently of 
each other, they are nevertheless not more to be confounded 
into one than those of Reproduction and Conservation. They 
are, indeed, discriminated by differences sufficiently decisive. 
Reproduction, as we have seen, operates, in part at least, 
out of consciousness. Representation, on the contrary, is 
only realized as it is realized in consciousness ; the degree 
or vivacity of the representation being always in proportion 
to the degree or vivacity of our consciousness of its reality. 
Nor are the energies of Representation and Reproduction al- 
ways exerted by the same individual in equal intensity, any 
more than the energies of Reproduction and Retention. Some 
minds are distinguished for a higher power of manifesting one 
of these phaenomena ; others, for manifesting another ; and as 
it is not always the person who forgets nothing, who can most 
promptly recall what he retains, so neither is it always the per- 
son who recollects most easily and correctly, who can exhibit 
what he remembers in *the most vivid colors. It is to be recol- 
lected, however, that Retention, Reproduction, and Representa* 

-(443 J 



444 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 

tion, though not in different per^;ons of the same relative vigor, 
are, however, in the same individuals, all strong or weak in 
reference to the same classes of objects. For example, if a 
man's memory be more peculiarly retentive of words, his verbal 
reminiscence and imagination will, in like manner, be more par- 
ticularly energetic. 

In common language, it is not of course to be expected that 
there should be found terms to express the result of an analysis, 
which had not even been performed by philosophers ; and, ac- 
cordingly, the term Imagination^ or Phantasy, which denotes 
most nearly the Representative process, does this, however, not 
without an admixture of other processes, which it is of conse- 
quence for scientific precision that we should consider apart. 

Improper division of * Imagination. — Philosophers have di- 
vided Imagination into two, — what they call the Reproductive 
and the Productive. By the former, they mean Imagination 
considered as simply reexhibiting, representing, the objects pre- 
sented by perception, that is, exhibiting them without addition 
or retrenchment, or any change in the relations which they 
reciprocally held when first made known to us through sense. 
This operation Mr. Stewart has discriminated as a separate fac- 
ulty, and bestowed on it the name of Conception. This dis- 
crimination and nomenclature I think unfortunate. The dis- 
crimination is unfortunate, because it is unphilosophical to 
distinguish, as a separate faculty, what is evidently only a 
special application of a common power. The nomenclature is 
unfortunate, for the term Conception^ which means a taking up 
in bundles, or grasping into unity, — this term, I say, ought to 
have been left to denote, what it previously was, and only prop- 
perly could be, applied to express, — the notions we have of 
classes of objects, in other words, what have been called our 
general ideas. Be this, however, as it may, it is evident, that 
the Reproductive Imagination (or Conception, in the abusive 
language of the Scottish philosophers) is not a simple faculty. 
It comprises two processes : — first^ an act of representation 
strictly so called ; and, secondly, an act of reproduction arbi- 
trarily limited by certain contingent circumstances ; and it is 



THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 445 

from the arbitrary limitation of this second constituent, that the 
faculty obtains the only title it can exhibit to an independent 
5xistence. Nor can the Productive Imagination establish a 
better claim to the distinction of a separate faculty than the 
Reproductive. The Productive or Creative Imagination is 
that which is usually signified by the term Imagination or 
Fancy^ in ordinary language. Now, in the first place, it is to 
be observed, that the terms productive or creative are very im- 
properly applied to Imagination, or the Representative Faculty 
t)f mind. It is admitted on all hands, that Imagination creates 
nothing, that is, produces nothing new ; and the terms in ques- 
tion are, therefore, by the acknowledgment of those who em- 
ploy thejn, only abusively applied to denote the operations of 
Fancy, in the new arrangement it makes of the old objects fur- 
nished to it by the senses. We have now, therefore, only to 
consider, whether, in this corrected meaning, Imagination, as a 
plastic energy, be a simple or a complex operation. And that 
it is a complex operation, I do not think it will be at all difficult 
to prove. 

What is Representation'^ — In the view I take of the funda- 
mental processes, the act of Representation is merely the energy 
of the mind in holding up to its own contemplation what it is 
determined to represent. I distinguish, as essentially different, 
the Representation, and the determination to represent. I ex- 
clude from the Faculty of Representation all power of prefer- 
ence among the objects it holds up to view. This is the func- 
tion of faculties wholly different from that of Representation, 
which, though active in representing, is wholly passive as to 
what it represents. 

Two conditions of Representation. — What, then, it may be 
asked, are the powers by which the Representative Faculty is 
determined to represent, and to represent this particular object, 
or this particular complement of objects, and not any other? 
These are two. The Jirst of these is the Reproductive Fac- 
ulty. This faculty is the great immediate source, from which 
the Representative receives both the materials and the deterr 
mination to represent; and the laws by which the Reproductive 



446 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY 

Faculty is goYerned, govern also the Representative. Accord- 
ingly, if there were no other laws in the arrangement and com- 
bination of thought than those of association, the Representative 
Faculty would be determined in its manifestations, and in the 
character of its manifestations, by the Reproductive Faculty 
alone ; and, on this supposition. Representation could no more 
be distinguished from Reproduction than Reproduction from 
Association. 

The Faculty of Relations* — But there is another elementary 
process which we have not yet considered, — Comparison, or 
the Faculty of relations, to which the representative act is 
likewise subject, and which plays a conspicuous part in deter- 
mining in what combinations objects are represented.. By the 
process of Comparison, the complex objects, — the congeries 
of phaenomena called up by the Reproductive Faculty, undergo 
various operations. They are separated into parts, they are 
analyzed into elements ; and these parts and elements are again 
compounded in every various fashion. In all this the Repre- 
sentative Faculty cooperates. It, first of all, exhibits the phae- 
nomena so called up by the laws of ordinary association. In 
this it acts as handmaid to the Reproductive Faculty. It then 
exhibits the phaenomena as variously elaborated by the analysis 
and synthesis of the Comparative Faculty, to which, in like 
manner, it performs the part of a subsidiary. 

Imagination a complex process, — This being understood, you 
will easily perceive, that the Imagination of common language, 
— the Productive Imagination of philosophers, — is nothing but 
the Representative process, plus the process to which I would 
give the name of the Comparative. In this compound opera- 
tion, it is true that the representative act is the most conspicu- 
ous, perhaps the most essential, element. For, in th.e first place, 
it is a condition of the possibility of the act of comparison, — 
of the act of analytic synthesis, that the material on which it 
operates (that is, the objects reproduced in their natural connec- 
tions) should be held up to its observation in a clear light, in 
order that it may take note of their various circumstances of 
relation ; and, in the second^ that the result of its own elabora- 



THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 447 

tion, that is, tlie new arrangements which it proposes, should be 
realized in a vivid act of Representation. Thus it is, that, in 
the view both of the vulgar and of philosophers, the more ob- 
trusive, though really the more subordinate, element in this 
compound process has been elevated into the principal constitu- 
ent; whereas, the act of Comparison, — the act of separation 
and reconstruction, has been regarded as identical with the act 
of Representation. 

Thus Imagination, in the common acceptation of the term, is 
not a simple but a compound faculty, — a faculty, however, in 
which Representation, — the vivid exhibition of an object, — 
forms the principal constituent. If, therefore, we were obliged 
to find a common word for every elementary process of our 
Sinsilj&is, —- Imagination would be the term, which, with the 
least violence to its meaningj could be accommodated to express 
the Representative Faculty. 

Imagination not limited to objects of sense, — By Imagina- 
tion, thus limited, you are not to suppose that the faculty of 
representing mere objects of sense alone is meant. On the 
contrary, a vigorous power of Representation is as indispensable 
a condition of success in the abstract sciences, as in the poetical 
and plastic arts ; and it may, acTcordingly, be reasonably doubted 
whether Aristotle or Homer were possessed of the more power- 
ful Imagination. " We may, indeed, affirm, that there are as 
many different kinds of imagination as there are different kinds 
of intellectual activity. There is the imagination of abstrac- 
tion, which represents to us certain phases of an object to the 
exclusion of others, and, at the same time, the sign by which 
the phases are united ; the imagination of wit, which represents 
differences and contrasts, and the resemblances by which these 
are again combined ; the imagination of judgment, which repre- 
sents the various qualities of an object, and binds them together 
under the relations of substance, of attribute, of mode ; the 
imagination of reason, which represents a principle in connec- 
tion with its consequences, the effect in dependence on its cause ; 
the imagination of feehng, which represents the accessory im- 
ages, kindred to some particular, and which therefore confer on 



448 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 

it greater compass, depth, and intensity ; the imagination of vo- 
lition, which represents all the circumstances which concur to 
persu-ade or dissuade from a certain act of will ; the imagination 
of the passions, which, according to the nature of the affection, 
represents all that is homogeneous or analogous; finally, the 
imagination of the poet, which represents whatever is new, or 
beautiful, or sublime, — whatever, in a word, it is determined 
to represent by any interest of art." ^ The term Imagination^ 
however, is less generally applied to the representations of the 
Comparative Faculty considered in the abstract, than to the 
representations of sensible objects concretely modified by com- 
parison. The two kinds of imagination are, in fact, not fre- 
quently combined. Accordingly, using the term in this its 
ordinary extent, that is, in its limitation to objects of sense, it is 
finely said by Mr. Hume : " Nothing is more dangerous to 
reason than the flights of imagination, and nothing has been the 
occasion of more mistakes among philosophers. Men of bright 
fancies may, in this respect, be compared to those angels whom 
the Scriptures represent as covering their eyes with their 
wings." 

Considering the Representative Faculty in subordination to 
its two determinants, the faculty of Reproduction and the fac- 
ulty of Comparison or Elaboration, we may distinguish three 
principal orders in which Imagination represents ideas : — " 1°, 
The Natural order ; 2°, The Logical order ; 3°, The Poetical 
order. The Natural order is that in which we receive the im- 
pression of external objects, or the order according to which 
our thoughts spontaneously group themselves. The Logical 
order consists in presenting what is universal, prior to what is 
contained under it as particular, or in presenting the particulars 
first, and then ascending to the universal which they constitute. 
The former is the order of Deduction, the latter that of Liduc- 
tion. These two orders have this in common, that they deliver 
to us notions in the dependence in which the antecedent ex- 
plains the subsequent. The Poetical order consists in seizing 

^ [Translated by Hamilton, together with the other citations in this 
chapter, unless otherwise credited, from Ancillon's Essais Philosophiqites.} 



THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. , 449 

individual circumstances, and in grouping them in such a man- 
ner that the Imagination shall represent them so as they might 
be offered by the sense. The Natural order is involuntary ; it 
is established independently of our concurrence. The Logical 
order is a child of art, it is the result of our will ; but it is con- 
formed to the laws of intelligence, which tend always to recall 
the particular to the general, or the general to the particular. 
The Poetical order is exclusively calculated on effect, Pindar 
would not be a lyric poet, if his thoughts and images followed 
each other in the common order, or in the logical order. The 
state of mind in which thought and feeling clothe themselves 
in lyric forms, is a state in which thoughts and feelings are 
associated in an extraordinary manner, — in which they have, 
in fact, no other relation than that which groups and moves 
them around the dominant thought or feeling which forms 
the subject of the ode." 

Imagination as affected hy different trains of association. — 
" Thoughts which follow each other only in the natural order, 
or as they are associated in the minds of men in general, form 
tedious conversations and tiresome books. Thoughts, on the 
other hand, whose connection is singular, capricious, extraordi- 
nary, are unpleasing ; whether it be that they strike us as im- 
probable, or that the effort which has been required to produce, 
supposes a corresponding effort to comprehend. Thoughts 
whose association is at once simple and new, and which, though 
not previously witnessed in conjunction, are yet approximated 
without a violent exertion, — such thoughts please universally, 
by affording the mind the pleasures of novelty and exercise at 
once." 

" A peculiar kind of Imagination, determined by a peculiar 
order of association, is usually found in every period of life, in 
every sex, in every country, in every religion. A knowledge 
of men principally consists in a knowledge of the principles by 
which their thoughts are linked and represented. The study 
of this is of importance to the instructor, in order to direct the 
character and intellect of his pupils ; to the statesman, that he 
may exert his influence on the public opinion and manners of 

38* . 



450 THE REPRESENTAiIVE FACULTY. 

a people ; to the poet, that he may give truth and reality to his 
dramatic situations ; to the orator, in order to convince and per- 
suade ; to the man of the world, if he would give interest to 
his conversation. 

, " Authors who have made a successful study of this subject 
skim over a multitude of circumstances under which an occur- 
rence has taken place, because they are aware that it is 
proper to reject what is only accessory to the object which 
they would present in prominence. A vulgar mind forgets 
and spares nothing ; he is ignorant that conversation is always 
but a selection ; that every story is subject to the laws of dra- 
matic poetry, — festinat ad eventum ; and that all which does 
not concur to the effect, destroys or weakens it. The invol- 
untary associations of their thoughts are imperative on minds of 
this description ; they are held in thraldom to the order and cir- 
cumstances in which their perceptions were originally obtained." 
This has not, of course, escaped the notice of the greatest ob- 
server of human nature. Mrs. Quickly, in reniinding Falstaff 
of his promise of marriage, supplies a good example of this 
peculiarity. ' Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt gob- 
let, sitting in my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a 
sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Whitsun week, when the 
prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing man 
of Windsor,' — and so forth. 

" Dreaming, Somnambulism, Reverie, are so many effects of 
imagination determined by association, — at least, states of mind 
in which these have a decisive influence. If an impression on 
the sense often commences a dream, it is by imagination and 
suggestion that it is developed and accomplished. Dreams 
have frequently a degree of vivacity which enables them to 
compete with the reahty ; and if the events which they repre- 
sent to us were in accordance with the circumstances of time 
and place in which we stand, it would be almost impossible to 
distinguish a vivid dream from a sensible perception." " If," 
says Pascal, " we* dreamt every night the same thing, it would 
perhaps affect us as powerfully as the objects which we perceive 
every day. And if an artisan were certain of dreaming every 



THE KEPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 451 

night for twelve hours that he was king, I am convinced that he 
would be almost as happy as a king, who dreamt for twelve 
hours that he was an artisan. If we dreamt every night that 
we were pursued by enemies and harassed by horrible phan- 
toms, we should suffer almost as much as if that were true, and 
we should stand in as great dread of sleep, as we should of wak- 
ing, had we real cause to apprehend these misfortunes 

It is only because dreams are different and inconsistent, that 
we can say, when we awake, that we have dreamt ; for life is a 
dream a little less inconstant." Now the case which Pascal 
here hypothetically supposes, has actually happened. In a very 
curious German work, by Abel, I find the following case, 
which I abridge : — A young man had a cataleptic attack, in 
consequence of which a singular effect was operated in his men- 
tal constitution. Some six minutes after falling asleep, he 
began to speak distinctly, and almost always of the same objects 
and concatenated events, so that he carried on from night to 
night the same history, or rather continued to play the same 
part. On wakening, he had no reminiscence whatever of his 
^reaming thoughts, — a circumstance, by the way, which distin- 
guishes this as rather a case of somnambulism than of j3ommon 
dreaming. Be this, however, as it may, he played a double 
part in his existence. By day, he was the poor apprentice of a 
merchant ; by night, he was a married man, the father of a 
family, a senator, and in affluent circumstances. If, during his 
vision, any thing was said in regard to his waking state, he de- 
clared it unreal and a dream. This case, which is established 
on the best evidence, is, as far as I am aware, unique. 

The influence of dreams upon our character is not without 
its interest. A particular tendency may be strengthened in a 
man solely by the repeated action of dreams. Dreams do not, 
however, as is commonly supposed, afford any appreciable indi- 
cation of the character of individuals. It is not always the 
subjects that occupy us most, when awake, that form the matter 
of our dreams; and it is curious that the persons the dearest 
to us are precisely those about whom we dream most rarely. 

SomnambuHsm is a phaenomenon still more astonishing. In 



452 THE REPRESENT ATIVE FACULTY. 

this singular state, a person performs a regular series of rational 
actions, and those frequently of the most difficult and delicate 
nature, and what is still more marvellous, with a talent to which 
he could make no pretension when awake. His memory and 
reminiscence supply him with recollections of words and things, 
which perhaps were never at his disposal in the ordinary state ; 
he speaks more fluently a more refined language ; and, if we 
are to credit what the evidence on which it rests hardly alloAVS 
us to disbelieve, he has not only perceptions through other 
channels than the common organs of sense, but the sphere of 
his cognitions is amplified to an extent far beyond the limits to 
which sensible perception is confined. This subject is one of 
•the most perplexing in the whole compass of philosophy ; for, 
on the one hand, the phasnomena are so marvellous that they 
cannot be believed, and yet, on the other, they are of so unam- 
biguous and palpable a character, and the witnesses to their 
reality are so numerous, so intelligent, and so high above every 
suspicion of deceit, that it is equally impossible to deny credit 
to what is attested by such ample and unexceptionable evidence. 

" The third state, that of Reverie or Castle-building, is a 
kind of waking dream, and does not differ from dreaming, ex- 
cept by the consciousness which accompanies it. In this state, 
the mind abandons itself without a choice of subject, without 
control over the mental train, to the involuntary associations of 
imagination. The mind is thus occupied without being prop- 
erly active ; it is active, at least, without effort. Young per- 
sons, women, the old, the unemployed, and the idle, are all dis- 
posed to reverie. There is a pleasure attached to its illusions, 
which render it as seductive as it is dangerous. The mind, by 
indulgence in this dissipation, becomes enervated ; it acquires 
the habit of a pleasing idleness, loses its activity, and at length 
even the power and the desire of action." 

Influence of imagination on human life, — " The happiness 
and misery of every individual of mankind depends almost ex- 
clusively on the particular character of his habitual associations, 
and the relative kind and intensity of his imagination. It is 
much less what we actually are, and what we actually possess, 



THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 453 

than what we imagine ourselves to be and have, that is decisive 
of our existence and fortune." Apicius committed suicide to 
avoid starvation, when his fortune was reduced to somewhere, 
in English money, about £100,000. The Roman epicure im- 
agined that he could not subsist on what, to men in general, 
would seem more than affluence. 

" Imagination, by the attractive or repulsive pictures with 
which, according to our habits and associations, it fills the frame 
of our life, lends to reality a magical charm, or despoils it of all 
its pleasantness. The imaginary happy and the imaginary 
miserable are common in the world, but tlieir happiness and 
misery are not the less real ; every thing depends on the mode 
in which they feel and estimate their condition. Fear, hope, 
the recollection of past pleasures, the torments of absence and 
of desire, the secret and almost resistless tendency of the mind 
towards certain objects, are the effects of association and imagi- 
nation. At a distanqp, things seem to us radiant with a celes- 
tial beauty, or in the lurid aspect of deformity. Of a truth, in 
either case, we are equally wrong. When the event which we 
dread, or which we desire, takes place, when we obtain, or 
when there is forced upon us, an object environed with a thou- 
sand hopes, or with a thousand fears, we soon discover that we 
have expected too much or too little ; we thought it by antici- 
pation infinite in good or evil, and we find it in reality not only 
finite, but contracted. 'With the exception,' says Rousseau, 
' of the self-existent Being, there is nothing beautiful, but that 
which is not.' In the crisis, whether of enjoyment or suffering, 
happiness is not so much happiness, nor misery so much misery, 
as we had anticipated. In the past,- thanks to a beneficent 
Creator, our joys reappear as purer and more brilliant than 
they had been actually experienced ; and sorrow loses not only 
its bitterness, but is changed even into a source of pleasing rec- 
ollection. In early youth, the present and the future are dis- 
played in a factitious magnificence ; for at this period of life, 
imagination is in its spring and freshness, and a cruel experience 
has not yet exorcised its brilliant enchantments. Hence the 
fair picture of a golden age, which all nations concur in placing 



454 THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 

in the past ; it is the dream of the youth of mankind." In old 
age, again, where the future is dark and sliort, imagination carries 
us back to the reenjoyment of a past existence. " The young," 
says Aristotle, " live forwards in hope, the old live backwards in 
memory." 

From all this, however, it appears, that the present is the only 
time in which we never actually live; we live either in the 
future, or in the past. So long as we have a future to antici- 
pate, we contemn the present ; and when we can no longer look 
forward to a future, we revert and spend our existence in the 
past. 

Organs of Imagination, — I shall terminate the consideration 
of Imagination Proper by a speculation concerning the organ 
which it employs in the representations of sensible objects. The 
organ which it thus employs seems to be no other than the 
organs themselves of Sense, on which the original impressions 
were made, and through which they were jDriginally perceived. 
Experience has shown, that Imagination depends on no one 
part of the cerebral apparatus exclusively. There is no portion 
of the brain which has not been destroyed by mollification, or 
induration, or external lesion, without the general faculty of 
Representation being injured. But experience equally proves, 
that the intracranial portion of any external organ of sense can- 
not be destroyed, without a certain partial abolition of the Imag- 
ination Proper. For example, there are many cases recorded 
by medical observers, of persons losing their sight, who have 
also lost the faculty of representing the images of visible objects. 
They no longer call up such objects by reminiscence, they no 
longer dream of them. Now in these cases, it is found that not 
merely the external instrument of sight, ■ — the eye, — has been 
disorganized, but that the disorganization has extended to those 
parts of the brain which constitute the internal instrument of 
this sense, that is, the optic nerves and thalami. If the latter, 
— the real organ of vision, — remain sound, the eye alone 
being destroyed, the imagination of colors and forms remains 
as vigorous as when vision was entire. Similar cases are re- 
corded in regard to the deaf. These facts, added to the observa- 



THE REPRESENTATIVE FACULTY. 455 

tion of the internal pliaenomena which take place during our 
acts of representation, make it, I think, more than probable 
that there are as many organs of Imagination as there 
are organs of Sense. Thus I have a distinct conscious- 
ness, that, in the internal representation of visible objects, the 
same organs are at work which operate in the external percep- 
tion of these ; and the same holds good in an imagination of the 
objects of Hearing, Touch, Taste, and Smell. 

But not only sensible perceptions, voluntary motions likewise, 
are imitated in and by the imagination. I can, in imagination, 
represent the action of speech, the play of the muscles of the 
countenance, the movement of the limbs ; and when I do this, I 
feel clearly that I awaken a kind of tension in the same nerves 
through which, by an act of will, I can determine an overt and 
voluntary motion of the muscles ; nay, when the play of imagi- 
nation is very lively, this external movement is actually deter- 
mined. Thus we frequently see the countenances of persons 
under the influence of imagination undergo various changes ; 
they gesticulate w^ith their hands, they talk to themselves, and 
all this is in consequence only of the imagined activity going out 
into real activity. I should, therefore, be disposed to conclude, 
that, as in Perception the living organs of sense are from with- 
out determined to energy, so in Imagination they are determined 
to a similar energy by an influence from within. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

THE ELABORATIYE FACULTY. — CLASSIFICATION. ~ ABSTRAC- 
TION AND GENERALIZATION. — NOMINALISM AND CONCEP- 
TUALISM. 

The faculties with which we have been hitherto engaged 
may be regarded as subsidiary to that which we are now about 
to consider. This, to which I gave the name of the Elabora- 
tive Faculty, — the Faculty of Relations, — or Comparison, — 
constitutes what is properly denominated Thought. It supposes 
always at least two terms, and its act results in a judgment, 
that is, an affirmation or negation of one of these terms of the 
other. You will recollect that, when treating of Consciousness 
in general, I stated to you, that consciousness necessarily invohes 
a judgment ; and as every act of mind .is an act of conscious- 
ness, every act of mind, consequently , invohes a judgment. A 
consciousness is necessarily the consciousness of a determinate 
something ; and we cannot be conscious of any thing without 
virtually affirming its existence, that is, judging it to be. ^Cbn- 
sciousness is thus primarily a judgment or affirmation of exist- 
ence. 

Again, consciousness is not merely the affirmation of naked 
existence, but the affirmation of a certain qualified or determinate 
existence. We are conscious that we exist, only in and through 
our consciousness that we exist in this or that particular state, 
— that we are so or so affected, — so or so active ; and we are 
only conscious of this or that particular state of existence, inas- 
much as we discriminate it as diffiirent from some other state of 
existence, of which we have been previously (conscious and are 
now reminiscent ; but such a discrimination supposes, in con- 
sciousness, the affirmation of the existence of one state of a 
(456) 



THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. 457 

specific character, and the negation of another. On this ground 
it was that I maintained, that consciousness necessarily involves, 
besides recollection, or rather a certain continuity of represen- 
tation, also judgment or comparison ; and, consequently, that, so 
far from comparison or judgment being a process always subse- 
quent to the acquisition of knowledge, through perception and 
self-consciousness, it is involved as a condition of the acquisitive 
process itself. In point of fact, the various processes of Acqui- 
sition (Apprehension), Representation, and Comparison, are all 
mutually dependent. Comparison cannot judge without some- 
thing to compare ; we cannot originally acquire, — - apprehend, 
we cannot subsequently represent our knowledge, witliout in 
either act attributing existence, and a certain kind of existence, 
both to the object known and to the subject knowing, — that is, 
without enouncing certain judgments and performing certain 
acts of comparison ; I say, without performing certain acts of 
comparison, for taking the mere affirmation that a thing is, — 
this is tantamount to a negation that it is not, and necessarily 
supposes a comparison, — a collation, between existence and 
non-existence. 

Comparison supposed, in every act of Thoiiglit, — What I 
have now said may perhaps contribute to prepare you for what 
I am hereafter to say of the faculty or elementary process of 
Comparison, — a faculty which, in the analysis of philosophers, 
is exhibited only in part ; and even that part is not preserved 
in its integrity. They take into account only a fragment of the 
process, and that fragment they again break down into a plural- 
ity of faculties. In opposition to the views hitherto promul- 
gated in regard to Comparison, I will show, that this faculty is 
at work in every, the simplest, act of mind ; and that, from the 
primary affirmation of existence in an original act of conscious- 
ness, to the judgment contained in the conclusion of an act of 
reasoning, every operation is only an evolution of the same ele- 
mentary process, — that there is a difference in 'the complexity, 
none in the nature, of the act ; in short, that the various pro- 
ducts of Analysis and Synthesis, of Abstraction and General- 
ization, are all merely the results of Comparison, and that the 
39 



458 THE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. 

operations of Conception or Simple Apprehension, of Judg- 
ment, and of Reasoning, are all only acts of Comparison in 
various applications and degrees. 

What I have, therefore, to prove is, in the first place, tliat 
Comparison is supposed in every, the simplest^ act of knowl- 
edge ; in the second^ that our factitiously simple, our factitiously 
complex, our abstract, and our generalized notions are all 
merely so many products of Comparison; in the thirds that 
Judgment, and, in the fourth^ that Reasoning, is identical with 
Comparison. In doing this, I shall not formally distribute the 
discussion into these heads, but shall include the proof of what 
I have now advanced, while tracing Comparison from its sim- 
plest to its most complex operations. 

Primary acts of Comparison, — The first or most elementary 
act of Comparison, or of that mental process in which the 
relation of two terms is recognized and affirmed, is the judg- 
ment virtually pronounced, in an act of Perception, of the 
Non-ego, or, in an act of Self-consciousness, of the Ego. This 
is the primary affirmation of existence. The notion of exist- 
ence is one native to the mind. It is the primary condition of 
thought. The first act of experience awoke it, and the first act 
of consciousness was a subsumption of that of which we were 
conscious under this notion ; in other words, the first act of 
consciousness was an affirmation of the existence of something. 
The first or simplest act of Comparison is thus the discrimina- 
tion of existence from non-existence ; and the first or simplest 
judgment is the affirmation of existence, in other words, the 
denial of non-existence. 

.But the something of which we are conscious, and of which 
we predicate existence, in the primary judgment, is twofold, — 
the Ego and the Non-ego. We are conscious of both, and affirm 
existence of both. But we do more ; we do not merely affirm 
the existence of each out of relation to the other, but, in affirm- 
ing their existence, we affirm their existence in duality, in dif- 
ference, in mutual contrast ; that is, we not only affirm the Ego 
to exist, but deny it existing as the Non-ego ; we not only affirm 
the Non-ego to exist, but deny it existing as the Ego. The sec- 



CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 459 

ond act of Comparison is thus the discrimination of the Ego and 
the Non-ego ; and the second judgment is the affirmation, that 
each is not the other. 

The third gradation in the act of Comparison, is in the recog- 
nition of the multiplicity of the coexistent or successive phag- 
nomena, presented either to Perception or Self-consciousness, 
and the judgment in regard to their resemblance or dissimi- 
larity. 

The fourth is the Comparison of the phaenomena with the 
native notion of Substance, and the judgment is the grouping 
of these phaenomena into different bundles, as the attributes of 
different subjects. In the external world, this relation consti- 
tutes the distinction of things ; in the internal, the distinction 
of powers. 

The fifth act of Comparison is the collation of successive 
phaenomena under the native notion of Causality, and the 
affirmation or negation of their mutual relation as cause and 
effect. 

Classification an act of Comparison, — So far, the pjrocess 
of Comparison is determined merely by objective conditions 
hitherto, it has followed only in the footsteps of nature. In 
those, again, we are now to consider, the procedure is, in a cer- 
tain sort, artificial, and determined by the necessities of the 
thinking subject itself. The mind is finite in its powers of com- 
prehension ; the objects, on the contrary, which are presented 
to it, are, in proportion to its limited capacities, infinite in num- 
ber. How then is this disproportion to be equahzed ? How 
can the infinity of nature be brought down to the finitude of 
man ? This is done by means of Classification. Objects, 
though infinite in number, are not infinite in variety ; they are 
all, in a certain sort, repetitions of the same common qualities, 
and the mind, though lost in the multitude of particulars, — in- 
dividuals, — can easily grasp the classes into which their resem- 
bling attributes enable us to assort these. This whole process 
of Classification is a mere act of Comparison, as the following 
deduction will show. 

In tlie first place, this may be shown in regard to the forma- 



460 CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 

tion of Complex notions, with which, as the simplest species of 
classification, we may commence. By Complex or Collective 
notions, I mean merely the notion of a class formed by the rep- 
etition of the same constituent notion. Such are the notions 
of an army^ a forest^ a town, a number. These are names of 
classes, formed by the repetition of the notion of a soldier^ of a 
tree, of a house, of a unit. You are not to confound, as has 
sometimes been done, the notion of an army, a forest, a toivn, a 
number, with the notions of army, forest, town, and number ; 
the former, as I have said, are complex or collective, the latter 
are general or universal notions. 

It is evident that a Collective notion is the result of Compari- 
son. The repetition of the same constituent notion supposes 
that these notions were compared, their identity or absolute 
similarity affirmed. 

How language aids Classification. — In the whole process of 
classification, the mind is in a great measure dependent upon 
language for its success ; and in this, the simplest of the acts 
of classification, it may be proper to show how language affords 
to mind the assistance it requires. Our complex notions being 
formed by the repetition of the same notion, it is evident that 
the difficulty we can experience in forming an adequate concep- 
tion of a class of identical constituents, will be determined by 
the difficulty we have in conceiving a multitude. " But the 
comprehension of the mind," [says Degerando,] " is feeble and 
limited ; it can embrace at once but a small number of objects. 
It would thus seem that an obstacle is raised to the extension 
of our complex ideas at the very outset of our combinations. 
But here language interposes, and supplies the mind with the 
force of which it is naturally destitute." We have formerly 
seen that the mind cannot, in one act, embrace more than ^Ye or 
six, at the utmost seven, several units. How then does it pro- 
ceed ? " When, by a first combination, we have obtained a 
complement of notions as complex as the mind can embrace, 
we give this complement a name. This being done, we regard 
the assemblage of units thus bound up undet a collective name 
as itself a unit, and proceed, by a second combination^ to aot»u- 



CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. ' 461 

mulate these into a new complement of the same extent. To 
this new complement we give another name ; and then again 
proceed to perform, on this more complex unit, the same opera- 
tion we had performed on the first ; and so we may go on rising 
from complement to complement to an indefinite extent. Thus, 
a merchant, having received a large unknown sum of money 
in crowns, counts out the pieces by fives, and having done this 
till he has reached twenty, he lays them together in a heap ; 
around these, he assembles similar piles of coin, till they amount, 
let us say, to twenty ; and he then puts the whole four hundred 
into a bag. In this manner he proceeds, until he fills a number 
of bags, and placing the whole in his coffers, he will have a 
complex or collective notion of the quantity of crowns which 
he has received." It is on this principle that arithmetic pro- 
ceeds, — tens, hundreds, thousands, myriads, hundreds of thou- 
sands, millions, etc., are all so many factitious units, which ena- 
ble us to form notions, vague indeed, of what otherwise we 
could have obtained no conception at all. So much for com- 
plex or collective notions, formed without decomposition, — a 
process which I now go on to consider. 

Two modes of decomposing thought. — Our thought, — that 
is, the sum total of the perceptions and representations which 
occupy us at any given moment, is always, as I have frequently 
observed, compound. The composite objects of thoughts may 
be decomposed in two ways, and for the sake of two different 
interests. In the first place, we may decompose in order that 
we may recombine, influenced by the mere pleasure which this 
plastic operation affords us. This is poetical analysis and syn- 
thesis. On this process it is needless to dwell.* It is evidently 
the work of comparison. For example, the minotaur, or chi- 
moera, or centaur, or gryphon (hippogryph), or any other poet- 
ical combination of different animals, could only have been 
effected by an act in which the representations of these animals 
were compared, and in which certain parts of one were affirmed, 
compatible with certain parts of another. How, again, is the 
imagination of all ideal beauty or perfection formed ? Simply 
by comparing the various beauties or excellences of which we 

39* 



462 CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. 

have had actual experience, and thus being enabled to pro- 
nounce in regard to their common and essential quality. 

In the second place, we may decompose in the interest of 
science ; and as the poetical decomposition was principally ac- 
complished by a separation of integral parts, so this is princi- 
pally accomplished by an abstraction of constituent qualities. 
On this process it is necessary to be more particular. 

Abstraction through the senses. — Suppose an unknown body 
is presented to my senses, and that it is capable of affecting each 
of these in a certain manner. " As furnished with flve different 
organs," [says Laromiguiere,] " each of which serves to intro- 
duce a certain class of perceptions and representations into the 
mind, we naturally distribute all sensible objects into five species 
of qualities. The human body, if we may so speak, is thus itself 
a kind of abstractive machine. The senses cannot but abstract. 
If the eye did not abstract colors, it would see them confounded 
with odors and with tastes, and odors and tastes would necessa- 
rily become objects of sight." 

" The abstraction of the senses is thus an operation the most 
natural ; it is even impossible for us not to perform it. Let us 
now see whether abstraction by the mind be more arduous than 
that of the senses." We have formerly found that the compre- 
hension of the mind is extremely limited ; that it can only take 
cognizance of one object at a time, if that be known with full 
intensity ; and that it can accord a simultaneous attention to a 
very small plurality of objects, and even that imperfectly. Thus 
it is that attention fixed on one object is tantamount to a with- 
drawal, - — to an abstraction, of consciousness from every other. 
Abstraction is thus not a, positive act of mind^ as it is often 
erroneously described in philosophical treatises ; — it is merely 
a negation to one or more objects, in consequence of its concen- 
tration on another. 

This being the case. Abstraction is not only an easy and 
natural, but a necessary result. " In studying an object," [con- 
tinues Laromiguiere,] " we neither exert all our faculties at 
once, nor at once apply them to ajl the qualities of an object. 
We know from experience, that the effect of such a mode of 



CLASSIFICATION AND ABSTRACTION. * 463 

procedure is confusion. On the contrary, we converge our at- 
tention on one alone of its qualities, — nay, contemplate this 
quality only in a single point of view, and retain it in that aspect 
until we have obtained a full and accurate conception of it. 
The human mind proceeds from the confused and complex to 
the distinct and constituent, always separating, always dividing, 
always simplifying ; and this is the only mode in which, from 
the weakness of our faculties, we are able to apprehend and to 
represent with correctness." 

" It is true, indeed, that after having decomposed every thing, 
we must, as it were, return on our steps by recomposing evury 
thing anew ; for unless we do so, our knowledge would not be 
conformable to the reality and relations of nature. The simple 
qualities of body have not each a proper and independent exist- 
ence ; the ultimate faculties of mind are not so many distinct 
and independent existences. On either side, there is a being 
one and the same ; on that side, at once extended, solid, colored, 
etc. ; on this, at once capable of thought, feeling, desire, etc." 

" But although all, or the greater number of, our cognitions 
comprehend different fasciculi of notions, it is necessary to com- 
mence by the acquisition of these notions one by one, through 
a successive application of our attention to the different attri- 
butes of objects. The abstraction of the intellect is thus as 
natural as that of the senses. It is even imposed upon us by 
the very constitution of our mind." 

" I am aware that the expression, abstraction of the senses, is 
incorrect ; for it is the mind always which acts, be it through 
the medium of the senses. The impropriety of the expression 
is not, however, one which is in danger of leading into error ; 
and it serves to point out the important fact, that Abstraction is 
not always performed in the same manner. In Perception, — 
in the presence of physical objects, the intellect abstracts colors 
by the eyes, sounds by the ear, etc. In Representation, and 
when the external object is absent, the mind operates on its 
reproduced cognitions, and looks at them successively in their 
different points of view." 

" However abstraction be performed, the result is notions 



464 ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. 

which are simple, or which approximate to simplicity ; and if 
we apply it with consistency and order to the different qualities 
of objects, we shall attain at length to a knowledge of these 
qualities and of their mutual dependencies ; that is, to a knowl- 
edge of objects as they really are. In this case, abstraction be- 
comes analysis, which is the method to which we owe all our 
cognitions." 

The process of abstraction is familiar to the most uncultivated 
mmds ; and its uses are shown equally in the mechanical arts as 
in the philosophical sciences. "A carpenter," says Kames, 
speaking of the great utility of abstraction, " considers a log of 
wood with regard to hardness, firmness, color, and texture ; a 
philosopher, neglecting these properties, makes the log undergo 
a chemical analysis, and examines its taste, its smell, and com- 
ponent principles ; the geometrician confines his reasoning to 
the figure, the length, breadth, and thickness ; in general, every 
artist, abstracting from all other properties, confines his observa- 
tions to those which have a more immediate connection with his 
profession." 

But is Abstraction, or rather, is Exclusive attention, the work 
of Comparison ? This is evident. The application of attention 
to a particular object, or quality of an object, supposes an act of 
will, — a choice or preference, and this again supposes Com- 
parison and Judgment. But this may be made more manifest 
from a view of the act of Generalization, on which we are about 
to enter. 

Generalization. Abstract individual ideas, -r- The notion of 
the figure of the desk before me is an abstract idea, — an idea 
that makes part of the total notion of that body, and on which I 
have concentrated my attention, in order to consider it exclu- 
sively. This idea is abstract, but it is at the same time individ- 
ual ; it represents the figure of this particular desk, and not the 
figure of any other body. But had we only individual abstract 
notions, what would be our knowledcje ? We should be coo^- 
nizant only of qualities viewed apart from their subjects (and 
of separate phasnomena there exists none in nature) ; aisd as 
these qualities are also separate from each oiJiei-, we sboukj 



ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. 465 

have no knowledge of their mutual relations. We should also 
be overwhelmed with their number. 

Abstract General notions. — It is necessary, therefore, that 
we should form Abstract General notions. This is done 
when, companng a number of objects, we seize on their 
resemblances ; when we concentrate our attention on these 
points of similarity, thus abstracting the mind from a con- 
sideration of their differences; and when we give a name 
to our notion of that circumstance in which they all agree. 
The General Notion is thus one which makes us know a 
quality, property, power, action, relation ; in short, any 
point of view, under which we recognize a plurality of objects 
as a unity. It makes us aware of a quality, a point of view, 
common to many things. It is a notion of resemblance ; hence 
the reason why general names or terms, the signs of general 
notions, have been called terms of resemblance (termini similitu- 
di7iis). In this process of generalization, we do not stop short 
at a first generalization. By a first generalization, we have 
obtained a number of classes of resembling indi\ iduals. But 
these classes we can compare together, observe their similarities, 
abstract from their differences, and bestow on their common cir- 
cumstance a common name. On these second classes we can 
again perform the same operation, and thus ascending the scale 
of general notions, throwing out of view always a greater num- 
ber of differences, and seizing always on fewer similarities in 
the formation of our classes, we arrive at length at the limit of 
our ascent in the notion of being or existence. Thus placed 
on the summit of the scale of classes, we descend by a process 
the reverse of that by which we have ascended ; we divide and 
subdivide the classes^ by introducing always more and more 
characters, and laying always fewer differences aside ; the 
notions become more and more composite, until we at length 
arrive at the individual. 

Twofold quantity in notions. — I may here notice, that there 
is a twofold kind of quantity to be considered in notions. It is 
evident, that, in proportion as the class is high, it will, in the 
first place, contain under it a greater number of classes, and, in 
the second, will include the smallest complement of attributes- 



466 ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. 

Thus, heing or existence contains under it every class ; and yet, 
when we say that a thing exists, we say the very lea^t of it 
that is possible. On the other hand, an individual, though it 
contain nothing but itself, involves the largest amount of predi- 
cation. For example, when I say, — this is Richard, I not 
only affirm of the subject every class from existence down to, 
man, but likewise a number of circumstances proper to Richard 
as an individual. Now, the former of these quantities, the 
external, is called the Extension of a notion ; the latter, the 
internal quantity, is called its Comprehension or* Intension. 
The extension of a notion is, likewise, styled its circuit, region^ 
domain, or sphere, also its breadth. On the other hand, the 
comprehension of a notion is likewise called its depth. These 
names we owe to the Greek logicians. The internal and ex- 
ternal quantities are in the inverse ratio of each other. The 
greater the Extension, the less the Comprehension; the greater 
the Comprehension, the less the Extension. 

I have noticed the improper use of the term abstraction by 
many philosophers, in applying it to that on which attention is 
converged. This we may indeed be said to prescind, but not 
to abstract. Thus, let A, B, C, be three qualities of an object. 
We prescind A, in abstracting it from B and C ; but we cannot, 
without impropriety, simply say that we abstract A. Thus, by 
attending to one object to the abstraction from all others, we, in 
a certain sort, decompose or analyze the complex materials pre- 
sented to us by Perception and Self-consciousness. This analy- 
sis or decomposition is of two kinds. In the first place, by 
concentrating attention on one integrant part of an object-, we, 
as it were, withdraw or abstract it from the others. For exam- 
ple, we can consider the head of an animal to the exclusion of 
the other members. This may be called Partial or Concrete 
Abstraction. The process here noticed has, however, been . 
overlooked by philosophers, insomuch that they have opposed 
the terms concrete and abstract as exclusive contraries. In the 
second place, we can rivet our attention on some particular 
mode of a thing, as its smell, its color, its figure, its motion, its 
size, etc., and abstract it from the others. This may be called 
Modal Abstraction. 



ABSTRACTION AND GENERALIZATION. 467 

The Abstraction we have been now spcaldng of is performed 
&n individual objects, and is consequently particular. There is 
nothing necessarily connected with Generalization in Abstrac- 
tion. Generalization is indeed dependent on Abstraction, wliich 
it supposes ; but Abstraction does not involve Generalization. I 
remark this, because you will frequently find the terms abstract 
and general applied to notions, used as convertible. Nothing, 
however, can be more incorrect. " A person," says Mr. Stewart, 
" who had never seen but one rose, might yet have been able to 
consider its color apart from its other qualities ; and, therefore, 
there may be such a thing as an idea which is at once abstract 
and particular. After having perceived this quality as belong- 
ing to a variety of individuals, we can consider it without refer- 
ence to any of them, and thus form the notion of redness or 
whiteness in general, which may be called a general abstract 
idea. The words abstract and general, therefore, when applied 
to ideas, are as completely distinct from each other as any two 
words to be found in the language." 

Generalization is the process through which we obtain what 
are called general or universal notions. A general notion is 
nothing but the abstract notion of a circumstance in which a 
number of individual objects are found to agree, that is, to 
resemble each other. In so far as two objects resemble each 
other, the notion we have of them is identical, and, therefore, 
to us the objects may be considered as the same. Accordingly, 
having discovered the circumstance in which objects agree, we 
arrange them by this common circumstance inio classes, to 
which we also usually give a comnion name. 

I have explained how, in the prosecution of this operation, 
commencing with individual objects, we generalized these into 
a lowest class. Having found a number of such lowest classes, 
we then compare these again together, as we had originally 
compared individuals ; we abstract their points of resemblance, 
and by these points generalize them into a higher class. The 
same process we perform upon these higher classes ; and thus 
proceed, generalizing class from classes, until we are at last 
arrested in the one highest class, that of being. Thus w^e find 



468 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 

Peter, Paul, Timothy, etc., all agree in certain common attri- 
butes, which distinguish them from other animated beings. 
We accordingly collect them into a class, which we call man. 
In like manner, out of the other animated beings which we ex- 
clude from mauj we form the classes, horse^ dog^ ox^ etc. These 
and man form so many lowest classes or species. But these 
species, though differing in certain respects, all agree in others. 
Abstracting from their diversities, we attend only to their 
resemblances ; and as all manifest hfe, sense, feeling, etc., — 
this resemblance gives us a class, on which we bestow the name 
animal. Animal, or living sentient existences, we then com- 
pare with lifeless existences, and thus going on abstracting from 
dilTerences, and attending to resemblances, we arrive at naked 
or undifferenced existence. Having reached the pinnacle of 
generalization, we may redescend the ladder ; and this is done 
by reversing the process through which we ascended. Instead 
of attending to the similarities, and abstracting from the differ- 
ences, we now attend to the differences, and abstract from the 
similarities. And as the ascending process is called Generali- 
zation, this is called Division or Determination ; — Division, be- 
cause the higher or wider classes are cut down into lower or 
narrower ;— Determination, because every quality added on to 
a class limits or determines its extent, that is, approximates it 
more to some individual, real, or determinate existence. 

Question between the Nominalists and the Conceptualists. — 
Having given you this necessary information in regard to the na- 
ture of Generalization, I proceed to consider one of the most sim- 
ple, and, at the same time, one of the most perplexed, problems in 
philosophy, — in regard to the object of the mind, — the object 
of consciousness, when we employ a general term. In the ex- 
planation of the process of generalization, all philosophers are 
at one ; the only differences that arise among them relate to the 
point, — whether we can form an adequate idea of that which 
is denoted by an abstract, or abstract and general term. In the 
discussion of this question, I shall pursue the following order : 
jirst of all, I shall state the arguments of the Nominalist^ , — 
of those who hold, that we are unable to form an idea corre- 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 469 

spending to the abstract and general term ; in the second place, 
I shall state the arguments of the Conceptualists, — of those 
who maintain that we are so competent; and, in the last, I 
shall show that the opposing parties are really at one, and that 
the whole controversy has originated in the imperfection and 
ambiguity of our philosophical nomenclature. In this discus- 
sion, I avoid all mention of the ancient doctrine of Realism. 
This is curious only in an historical point of view ; and is 
wholly irrelevant to the question at issue among modern philos- 
ophers. 

This controversy has been principally agitated in [Great 
Britain] and in France, for a reason that I shall hereafter ex- 
plain ; and, to limit ourselves to Great Britain, the doctrine of 
Nominalism has, among others, been embraced by Hobbes, 
Berkeley, Hume, Principal Campbell, and Mr. Stewart; while 
Conceptualism has found favor with .Locke, Reid, and Brown. 

Throwing out of view the antiquities of the question, (and 
this question is perhaps more memorable than any other in the 
history of philosophy), — laying, I say, out of account opinions 
which have been long exploded, there are two which still divide 
philosopliers. Some maintain, that every act and every object of 
mind is necessarily singular, and that the name is that alone 
which can pretend to generality. Others again hold, that the 
mind is capable of forming notions, representations, correspond- 
ent in universality to the classes contained under, or expressed 
hy, the general term. 

Nominalism, — The former of these opinions, — the doctrine^ 
as it is called, of Nominalism, — maintains that every notion, 
considered in itself, is singular, but becomes, as it were, general, 
through the intention of the mind to make it represent every 
resembling notion, or notion of the same class. Take, for ex- 
ample, the term man. Here we can call up no notion, no idea, 
corresponding to the universahty of the class or term. This is 
manifestly impossible. For as man involves contradictory attri- 
butes, and as contradictions cannot coexist in one representation, 
an idea or notion adequate to man cannot be realized in thought. 
The class man includes individuals, male and female, white and 

40 



470 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 

black and copper-colored, tall and short, fat and thin, straight 
and crooked, whole and mutilated, etc., etc. ; and the notion of 
the class must, therefore, at once represent all and none of these. 
It is, therefore, evident, though the abslirdity was maintained 
by Locke, that we cannot accomplish this ; and, this being im- 
possible, we cannot represent to ourselves the class man by any 
equivalent notion or idea. All that we can do is to call up 
some individual image, and consider it as representing:, though 
madequately representing, the generality. This we easily do, 
for as we can call into imagination any individual, so we can 
make that individual image stand for any or for every other 
which it resembles in those essential points which constitute the 
identity of the class. This opinion, which, after Hobbes, has 
been maintained, among others, by Berkeley, Hume, Adam 
Smith, Campbell, and Stewart, appears to me not only true, but 
self-evident. 

No one has stated the case of the Nominalists more clearly 
than Bishop Berkeley, and his whole argument is, as far as it 
goes, irrefragable. " It is agreed," [he says,] " on all hands,* 
that the qualities or modes of things do never really exist each 
of them apart by itself, and separated from all others, but are 
mixed, as it were, and blended together, several in the same 
object. But we are told, the mind, being able to consider each 
quality singly, or abstracted from those other qualities with 
which it is united, does by that means frame to itself abstract 
ideas. For example, there is perceived by sight an object ex- 
tended, colored, and moved : this mixed or compound idea the 
mind resolving into its simple, constituent parts, and viewing 
each by itself, exclusive of the rest, does frame the abstract ideas 
of extension, color, and motion. Not that it is possible for color 
or motion to exist without extension ; but only that the mind 
can frame to itself, by abstraction, the idea of color exclusive of 
extension, and of motion exclusive of both color and extension. 

" Again, the mind having observed that, in the particular ex- 
tensions perceived by sense, there is something common and 
alike in all, and some other things peculiar, as this or that figure 
or magnitude, which distinguish them one from another ; it con 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUAUSM. 471 

siders apart or singles out by itself that which is common, mak- 
ing thereof a most abstract idea of extension, which is neither 
line, surface, nor solid, nor has any figure or magnitude, but is 
an idea entirely prescinded from all these. So, likewise, the 
mind, by leaving out of the particular colors perceived by sense 
that which distinguishes them one from another, and retaining 
that only which is common to all, makes an idea of color in 
abstract which is neither red, nor blue, nor white, nor any other 
determinate color. And in like manner, by considering motion 
abstractedly not only from the body moved, but likewise from 
the figure it describes, and all particular directions and veloci- 
ties, the abstract idea of motion is framed ; which equally cor- 
responds to all particular motions whatsoever that may be per- 
ceived by sense. 

" Whether others have this wonderful faculty of abstracting 
their ideas, they best can tell : for myself I find, indeed, I have 
a faculty of imagining, or representing to myself the ideas of 
those particular things I have perceived, and of variously com- 
pounding and dividing them. I can imagine a man with two 
heads, or the upper parts of a man joined to the body of a horse. 
I can consider the hand, the eye, the nose, each by itself ab- 
stracted or separated from the rest of the body. But then 
whatever hand or eye I imagine, it must have some particular 
shape and color. Likewise, the idea of man that I frame to 
myself must be either of a white, or a black, or a tawny, a 
straight or a crooked, a tall or a low, or a middle-sized man. I 
cannot by any effort of thought conceive the abstract idea above 
described. And it is equally impossible for me to form the 
abstract idea of motion distinct from the body moving, and 
which is neither swift nor slow, curvilinear nor rectilinear ; and 
the like may be said of all other abstract general ideas what- 
soever. To be plain, I own myself able to abstract in one 
sense, as when I consider some particular parts or quahties sep- 
arated from others, with which, though they are united in some 
object, yet it is possible they may really exist without them. 
But I deny that I can abstract one from another, or conceive 
separately, those qualities which it is impossible should exist so 



472 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 

iseparated : or that I can frame a general notion by abstracting 
from particulars in the manner aforesaid. Which two last are 
the proper acceptations of abstraction. And there are grounds 
to think most men will acknowledge themselves to be in my 
case. The generality of men, which are simple and illiterate, 
never pretend to abstract notions. It is said they are difficult, 
and not to be attained without pains and study. We may there- 
fore reasonably conclude, that, if such there be, they are confined 
only to the learned." 

Such is the doctrine of Nominalism, as asserted by Berkeley, 
and as subsequently acquiesced in by the principal philosophers 
of [Great Britain]. Reid himself is, indeed, hardly an excep- 
tion, for his opinion on this point is, to say the least of it, ex- 
tremely vague. 

Conceptualism. — The counter-opinion, that of Conceptual- 
ism, as it is called, has, however, been supported by several 
philosophers of distinguished ability. Locke maintains the 
doctrine in its most revolting absurdity, boldly admitting that 
the general notion must be realized, in spite of the principle of 
Contradiction. " Does it not require," he says, " some pains 
and skill to form the general idea of a triangle (which is yet 
none of the most abstract, comprehensive, and difficult), for it 
must be neither oblique or rectangle, neither equilateral, equi- 
crural, nor scalenon ; but all and none of these at once. In 
effect, it is something imperfect, that cannot exist; an idea 
wherein some parts of several different and inconsistent ideas 
are put together." 

This doctrine was, however, too palpably absurd to obtain 
any advocates ; and Conceptualism, could it not find a firmer 
basis, behoved to be abandoned. Passing over Dr. Reid's 
speculations on the question, which are, as I have said, wavering 
and ambiguous, I solicit your attention to the principal state- 
ment and defence of Conceptualism by Dr. Brown, in w^hom the 
doctrine has obtained a strenuous advocate. The following is 
the seventh, out of nine recapitulations, he has given us of it in 
his Lectures. " If then the generalizing process be, first, the 
percepi ion or conception of two or more objects ; secondly, the 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 473 

relative feeling of their resemblance in certain respects ; thirdly, 
the designation of these circumstances of resemblance by an 
appropriate name, the doctrine of the Nominalists, which in- 
cludes only two of these stages, — the perception of particular 
objects, and the invention of general terms,. — must be false, as 
excluding that relative suggestion of resemblance in certain re- 
spects, which is the second and most important step of the pro- 
cess ; since it is this intermediate feeling alone that leads to the 
use of the term, which, otherwise, it would be impossible to 
limit to any set of objects." 

This contains, in fact, both the whole of his own doctrine, and 
the whole ground of his rejection of that of the Nominalists. 
Now, upon this, I would, first of all, say, in general, that what 
in it is true is not new. But I hold it idle to prove, that his 
doctrine is old and common, and to trace it to authors with 
whom Brown has shown his acquaintance, by repeatedly quot- 
ino; them in his Lectures ; it is enousrh to show that it is erroneous. 

The first point I shall consider is his confutation of the Nomi- 
nalists. In the passage I have just adduced, and in ten others, 
he charges the Nominalists with excluding " the relative sug- 
gestion of resemblance in certain respects, which is the second 
and most important step in the process." This, I admit, is a 
weighty accusation, and I admit at once that if it do not prove 
that his own doctrine is right, it would at least demonstrate 
theirs to be sublimely wrong. But is the charge well founded ? 
Let us see whether the Ncuninalists, as he assures us, do really 
exclude the apprehension of resemblance in certain respects, as 
one step in their doctrine of generalization. I turn first to 
Hobbes as the real father of this opinion, — to him, as Leibnitz 
ti'uly says, " nomiiialibus ipsis nominalioremr The classical 
place of this philosopher on the subject is the fourth chapter of 
the Leviathan ; and there we have the following passage — 
" One universal name is imposed on many things for their simil- 
itude in some quality or other accident ; and whereas a proper 
name bringeth to mind one thing only, universals I'ecall a7ty one 
of those many." There are other passages to the same effect 
m Hobbes, but I look no further. 

40* 



474 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 

The second great Nominalist is Berkeley ; [from whom,] out 
of many similar passages, I select the two following. In both, 
he is stating his own doctrine of Nominalism. In the Introduc- 
tion, sect. 22 : "To discern the agreements or disagreements that 
are between my ideas, tj see what ideas are included in any 
compound idea, etc." In the Minute Philosopher^ sect. 7 : " But 
may not words become general by being made to stand indis- 
criminately for all particular ideas, which, from a mutual resem- 
blance^ belong to the same kind, without the intervention of any 
abstract general idea ? " 

I next take down Hume. In glancing over [his] exposition 
of the doctrine, I see the following : — " When we have found 
a resemblance among several objects, we apply the same name 
to all of them," etc. Again : — "As individuals are collected 
together and placed under a general term, with a view to that 
resemblance which they bear to each other," etc. In the last 
page and a half of the section, it is stated, no less than four 
times, that perceived resemblance is the foundation of classifica- 
tion. 

Adam Smith's doctrine is to the same effect as his predeces- 
sor's. [He says], " It is this application of the name of an in- 
dividual to a great number of objects, whose resemblance natu- 
rally recalls the idea of that individual, and of the name which 
expresses it, that seems originally to have given occasion to the 
formation of these classes and assortments, which in the Schools 
are called genera and species, and of which the ingenious and 
eloquent Rousseau finds himself so much at a loss to account for 
the origin. What constitutes a species is merely a number of 
objects bearing a certain degree of resemblance to one another, 
and on that account denominated by a single appellation, which 
may be applied to express any one of them." 

From the evidence I have already quoted, you will see how 
marvellously wrong is Brown's assertion. I assure you, that 
not only no Nominalist ever overlooked, ever excluded, the 
manifested resemblance of objects to each other, but that every 
Nominalist explicitly founded his doctrine of classification od 
lliis resemblance, and on this resemblance alone. No Nominalist 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 475 

ever dreamt of disallowing the notion of relativity, — the con- 
ception of similarity between things ; — this they maintain not less 
strenuously than the Conceptionalist ; they only deny that this 
could ever constitute a general notion. 

Brown is wrong in holding that the notion of similitude is 
general, and constitutes the general notion. But perhaps it may 
be admitted, that Brown is wrong in asserting that the Nomi- 
nalist excludes resemblance as an element of generalization, and 
yet maintained, that he is right in holding, against the Nominal- 
ists, that the notion, or, as he has it, the feeling, of the simihtude 
of objects in certain respects, is general, and constitutes what is 
called the general notion. I am afraid, however, that the mis- 
conception in regard to this point will be found not inferior to 
that in regard to the other. 

Resemblance is often an individual, not a general, relation. — 
In the frst place, then, resemblance is a relation ; and a rela- 
tion necessarily supposes certain objects as related terms. There 
can thus be no relation of resemblance conceived, apart from 
certain resembling objects. This is so manifest, that a formal 
enumeration of the principle seems almost puerile. Let it, 
however, be laid down as a first axiom, that the notion of simi- 
larity supposes the notion of certain similar objects. 

In the second place, objects cannot be similar without being 
similar in some particular mode or accident, — say in color, in 
figure, in size, in weight, in smell, in fluidity, in life, etc., etc. 
This is equally evident, and this I lay down as a second axiom. 

In the third place, I assume, as a third axiom, that a resem 
blance is not necessarily and of itself universal. On the con- 
trary, a resemblance between two individual objects, in a deter- 
minate quality, is as individual and determinate as the objects 
and their resembling qualities themselves. Who, for example, 
will maintain that my actual notion of the likeness of a particu- 
lar snowball and a particular egg, is more general than the 
representations of the several objects and their resembling 
accidents of color? 

Now let us try Dr. Brown's theory on these grounds. In 
reference to the first, he does not pretend that what he calls the 



476 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM. 

general feeling of resemblance can exist except between indi- 
vidual objects and individual representations. The universal- 
ity, which he arrogates to this feeling, cannot accrue to it from 
any universality in the relative or resembling ideas. This nei- 
ther he nor any other philosopher ever did or could pretend. 
They are supposed, ex hypothesis to be individual, — singular. 

Neither, in reference to the second axiom, does he pretend to 
derive the universality which he asserts to his feeling of resem- 
blance from the universality of the notion of the common qual- 
ity, in which this resemblance is realized. He does not, with 
Locke and others, maintain this ; on the contrary, it is on the 
admitted absurdity of such a foundation that he attempts to 
establish the doctrine of Conceptualism on another ground. 

But if the universality, assumed by Dr. Brown for his " feel- 
ing of resemblance," be found neither in the resembling objects, 
nor in the qualities through which they are similar, we must look 
for it in the feeling of resemblance itself, apart from its actual 
realization ; and this, in opposition to the third axiom which we 
laid down as self-evident. In these circumstances, we have cer- 
tainly a right to expect that Dr. Brown should have brought 
cogent proof for an assertion so contrary to all apparent evi- 
dence, that although this be the question which perhaps has 
been more ably, keenly, and universally agitated than any other, 
still no philosopher before himself was found even to imagine 
such a possibility. But in proof of this new paradox, Dr. 
Brown has not only brought no evidence ; he does not even 
attempt to bring any. He assumes and he asserts, but he haz- 
ards no argument. In this state of matters, it is perhaps super- 
fluous to do more than to rebut assertion by assertion ; and as 
Dr. Brown is not in possessorio^ and as his opinion is even 
opposed to the universal consent of philosophers, the counter 
assertion, if not overturned by reasoning, must prevail. 

But let us endeavor to conceive on what grounds it could pos- 
sibly be supposed by Dr. Brown, that the feeling of resemblance 
between certain objects, through certain resembling qualities, 
has in it any thing of universal, or can, as he says, constitute the 
general notion. This to me is, indeed, not easy ; and kiwevj hy- 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPT-UALISM. 477 

potliesis I can make is so absurd, that it appears almost a libel 
to attribute it, even by conjecture, to so ingenious and acute a 
thinker. 

In the first place, can it be supposed that Dr. Brown believed 
that a feeling of resemblance between objects in a certain qual- 
ity or respect was general, because it was a relation ? Then 
must every notion of a relation be a general notion ; which 
neither he nor any other philosopher ever asserts. 

In the second place, does he suppose that there is any thing 
in the feeling or notion of the particular relation called similar' 
ity^ which is more general than the feeling or notion of any 
other relation ? This can hardly be conceived. What is a 
feeling or notion of resemblance ? Merely this ; two objects 
aftect us in a certain manner, and we are conscious they affect 
us in the same way that a single object does, when presented at 
different times to our perception. In either case, we judge that 
the affections of which we are conscious are similar or the same. 
There is nothing general in this consciousness, or in this judg- 
ment. At all events, the relation recognized between the con- 
sciousness of similarity produced on us by two different eggs, is 
not more general than the feeling of similarity produced on us 
by two successive presentations of the same egg. If the one is 
to be called general, so is the other. Again, if the feeling or 
notion of resemblance be made general, so must the feeling or 
notion of difference. They are absolutely the same notion, 
only in different applications. You know the logical axiom, — 
the science of contraries is one. We know the like only as we 
know the unlike. Every affirmation of similarity is virtually 
an affirmation that difference does not exist ; every affirmation 
of difference is virtually an affirmation that similarity is not to 
be found. But neither Brown nor any other philosopher has 
pretended, that the apprehension of difference is either general, 
or a ground of generalization. On the contrary, the apprehen- 
sion of difference is the negation of generalization, and a descent 
from the universal to the particular. But if the notion or feel- 
ing of the dissimilarity is not general, neither is the feeling or 
notion of the similarity. 



478 NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISAI. 

In the third place, can it be that Dr. Brown supposes the 
particular feeling or consciousness of similarity between certain 
objects in certain respects to be general, because we have, in 
general, a capacity of feeling or being conscious of similarity ? 
This conjecture is equally improbable. On this ground, every 
act of every power would be general ; and we should not be 
obliged to leave Imagination, in order to seek for the universal- 
ity, which we cannot discover in the light or definitude of tha 
faculty, in the obscurity and vagueness of another. 

Conceptions distinguished from imaginations^ or concepts 
from images, — In the fourth place, only one other supposition 
remains ; and this may perhaps enable us to explain the possi- 
bility of Dr. Brown's hallucination. A relation cannot be 
represented in Imagination. The two terms, the two relative 
objects, can be severally imaged in the sensible phantasy, but 
not the relation itself. This is the object of the Comparative 
Faculty, or of Intelligence Proper. To objects so different as 
the images of sense and the unpicturable notions of intelligence, 
different names ought to be given ; and, accordingly, this has 
been done wherever a philosophical nomenclature of the slight- 
est pretensions to perfection has been formed. In the German 
language, which is now the richest in metaphysical expressions 
of any living tongue, the two kinds of objects are carefully dis- 
tinguished. In our language, on the contrary, the idea, concep- 
tion, notion, are used almost as convertible for either ; and the 
vagueness and confusion which is thus produced, even within 
the narrow sphere of speculation to which the want of the dis- 
tinction also confines us, can be best appreciated by those who 
are conversant with the philosophy of the different countries. 

Dr. Brown seems to have had some faint perception of the 
difference between intellectual notions and sensible representa- 
tions ; and if he had endeavored to signalize their contrast by 
a distinction of terms, he would have deserved well of English 
philosophy. But he mistook the nature of the intellectual no- 
tion, which connects two particular qualities by the bond of 
similarity, and imagined that there lurked under this intangible 
relation the universality which, he clearly saw, could not bo 



NOMINALISM AND CONCEPTUALISM, 479 

found in a representation of the related objects, or of their re- 
sembhng qualities. At least, if this do not assist us in account- 
ing for his misconception, I do not know in what way we other- 
wise can. 

What I have now said is, I think, sufficient in regard to the 
nature of Generalization. It is notoriously a mere act of Com- 
parison. We compare objects ; we find them similar in certain 
respects, — that is, in certain respects they affect us in the same 
manner ; we consider the qualities in them, that thus affect us 
in the same manner, as the same ; and to this common quahty 
we give a name ; and as we can predicate this name of all and 
each of the resembling objects, it constitutes them into a class. 
Aristotle has truly said that general names are only abbreviated 
definitions, and definitions, you know, are judgments. For ex- 
ample, animal is only a compendious expression for organized 
and animated body ; man^ only a summary of ratioiial animal^ 
etc 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

mE ELABORATIVE FACULTY. — THE PRIMUM COGmTUM. ~ 
JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

What does Language originate in'^ — I proceed now to a 
very curious question, which has likewise divided philosophers. 
It is this, — Does Language originate in General AppeUatives, 
or hy Proper Names f Did mankind in the formation of lan- 
guage, and do children in their first applications of.it, commence 
with the one kind of words or with the other ? The deter- 
mination of this question, — the question of the Primum Cog- 
nitum^ as it was called in the Schools, is not involved in the 
doctrine of Nominalism. Many illustrious philosophers have 
maintained that all terms, as at first employed, are expressive 
of individual objects, and that these only subsequently obtain a 
general acceptation. 

1. That our first ideas and names are of particulars, — This 
opinion I find maintained by Yives, Locke, E-ousseau, Condillac, 
Adam Smith, and others. " The order of learning " (I trans- 
late from Yives) " is from the senses to the imagination, and 
from this to the intellect ; — such is the order of life and of 
nature. We thus proceed from the simple to the complex, from 
the singular to the universal. This is to be observed in chil- 
dren, who first of all express the several parts of different things, 
and then conjoin them. Things general they call by a singular 
name ; for instance, they call all smiths by the name of that in- 
dividual smith whom they have first known, and all meats, heef 
or porlc, as they have happened to have heard the one or the 
other first, when they begin to sj^eak. Thereafter the mind col- 
lects universals from particulars, and then again reverts to partic- 
r480j 



THE PRIMUM COGNITUM, 481 

alars from universals."^ The same doctrine, without probably 
any knowledge of Yives, is maintained by Locke. " There is 
nothing more evident," he says, " than that the ideas of the 
persons children converse with, (to instance in them alone), are, 
like the persons themselves, only particular. The ideas of the 
nurse' and the mother are well framed in their minds ; and, 
like pictures of them there, represent only those individuals. 
The names they first gave to them are confined to these indi- 
viduals ; and the names of nurse and mamma, the child uses, 
determine themselves to those persons. Afterwards, when time 
and a larger acquaintance have made them observe that there 
are a great many other things in the world, that, in some com- 
mon agreements of shape, and several other qualities, resem- 
ble their father and mother, and those persons they have been 
used to, they frame an idea which they find those many par- 
ticulars do partake in ; and to that they give, with others, the 
name man, for example. And thus they come to have a general 
name, and a general idea." 

Adam Smith has, however, the merit of having applied this 
theory to the formation of language ; and his doctrine is too 
important not to be fully stated, and in his own powerful lan- 
guage. " The assignation," says Smith, " of particular names, 
to denote particular objects, — that is, the institution of nouns 
substantive, would probably be one of the first steps towards 
the formation of language. Two savages, who had never been 
taught to speak, but had been bred up remote from the societies 
of men, would naturally begin to form that language by which 
they would endeavor to make their mutual wants -intelligible to 
each other, by uttering certain sounds whenever they meant to 
denote certain objects. Those objects only which were most 
familiar to them, and which they had most frequent occasion to 
mention, would have particular names assigned to them. The 
particular cave whose covering sheltered them from the weather, 
the particular tree whose fruit relieved their hunger, the par- 
ticular fountain whose water allayed their thirst, would first be 
denominated by the words, cave, tree, fountain, or by whatever 
appellations they might think proper, in that primitive jargon, 

41 



482 THE PRIMUM COGNITUM 

to mark them. Afterwards, when the more enlarged expe- 
rience of these savages had led them to observe, and their nec- 
essary occasions obliged them to make mention of other caves, 
and other trees, and other fountains, they would naturally be- 
stow upon each of those new objects the same name by which 
they had been accustomed to express the similar object they 
were first acquainted with. The new objects had none of 
them any name of its own, but each of them exactly resem- 
bled another object, which had such an appellation. It was 
impossible that those savages could behold the new objects, 
without recollecting the old ones, and the name of the old 
ones, to which the new bore so close a resemblance. When 
they had occasion, therefore, to mention or to point out to each 
other any of the new objects, they would naturally utter the 
name of the correspondent old one, of which the idea could not 
fail, at that instant, to present itself to their memory in the 
strongest and liveliest manner. And thus those words, which 
were originally the proper names of individuals, would each of 
them insensibly become the common name of a multitude. A 
child that is just learning to speak, calls every person who 
comes to the house its papa, or its mamma ; and thus bestows 
upon the whole species those names which it had been taught 
to apply to two individuals. I have known a clown who did 
not know the proper name of the river which ran by his own 
door. It was the river^ he said, and he never heard any other 
name for it. His experience, it seems, had not led him to 
observe any other river. The general word river^ therefore, 
was, it is evident, in his acceptance of it, a proper name signify- 
ing an individual object. If this person had been carried to 
another river, would he not readily have called it a river? 
Could we suppose a person living on the banks of the Thames 
so ignorant as not to know the general word river^ but to be 
acquainted only with the particular word Thames^ if he was 
brought to any other river, would he not readily call it a 
Thames ? This, in reality, is no more than what they who are 
well acquairted with the general word are very apt to do. An 
Englishman, describing any great river which he may bave^ 



THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 483 

seen in some fo reign country, naturally says, that it is another 
Thames. The Spaniards, when they first arrived upon the 
coast of Mexico, and observed the wealth, populousness, and 
habitations of that fine country, so much superior to the savage 
nations which they had been visiting for some time before, cried 
out that it was another Spain. Hence it was called New 
Spain ; and this name has stuck to that unfortunate country ever 
since. We say, in the same manner, of a hero, that he is an 
Alexander ; of an orator, that he is a Cicero ; of a philosopher 
that he is a Newton. This way of speaking, which the gram- 
marians call an Antonomasia, and which is still extremely 
common, though now not at all necessary, demonstrates how 
much mankind are naturally disposed to give to one object the 
name of any other which nearly resembles it ; and thus, to de- 
nominate a multitude by what originally was intended to express 
an individual. 

" It is this application of the name of an individual to a great 
multitude of objects, whose resemblance naturally recalls the 
idea of that individual, and of the name which expresses it, that 
seems originally to have given occasion to the formation of those 
classes and assortments which, in the Schools, are called genera 
and species. ^^ 

2. That we first use general fer7ns. — On the other hand, an 
opposite doctrine is maintained by many profound philosophers. 
A large section of the Schoolmen embraced it ; and, among more 
modern thinkers, it is adopted by Leibnitz,. who says, that "gen- 
eral terms serve not only for the perfection of languages, but 
are even necessary for their essential constitution. For if by 
particulars be understood things individual, it would be impos- 
sible to speak, if there were only proper names, and no appel- 
latives, that is to say, if there were only names for things indi- 
vidual, since, at every moment, we are met by new ones, when 
we treat of persons, of accidents, and especially of actions, which 
are those that we describe the most ; but if by particulars be 
meant the lowest species (species infimas), besides that it is 
frequently very difficult to determine them, it is manifest that 
these are already universals, founded on similarity. Now, as 



484 THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 

the only difference of species and genera lies in a similarity of 
greater or less extent, it is natural to note every kind of simi- 
larity or agreement, and, consequently, to employ general terms 
of every degree ; nay, the most general being less complex with 
regard to the essences which they comprehend, although more 
extensive in relation to the things individual to which they 
apply, are frequently the easiest to form, and are the most use- 
ful. It is likewise seen that children, and those who know but 
little of the language which they attempt to speak, or little of 
the subject on which they would employ it, make use of general 
terms, as thing, plant, animal, instead of using proper names, 
of which they are destitute. And it is certain that all proper 
or individual names have been originally appellative or general." 
In illustration of this latter most important doctrine, he, in a 
subsequent part of the work, says : " I would add, in conformity 
to what I have previously observed, that proper names have 
been originally appellative, that is to say, general in their origin, 
as Brutus, Csesar, Augustus, Capito, Lentulus, Piso, Cicero, 
Elbe, Rhine, Rhur, Leine, Ocker, Bucephalus, Alps, Pyrenees, 
etc.," and, after illustrating this in detail, he concludes : — " Thus 
I would make bold to affirm that almost all words have been 
originally general terms, because it would happen very rarely 
that men would invent a name, expressly and without a reason, 
to denote this or that individual. We may, therefore, assert 
that the names of individual things were names of species, which 
were given par excellence, or otherwise, to some individual, as 
ihe name Great Head to him of the whole town who had the 
largest, or who was the man of most consideration, of the Great 
Heads known. It is thus, likewise, that men give the names of 
genera to species, that is to say, that they content themselves 
with a term more general or vague to denote more particular 
classes, when they do not care about the differences. As, for 
example, we content ourselves with the general name ahsirithium 
(wormwood), although there are so many species of the plant 
that one of the Bauhins has filled a whole book with them." 

That this was likewise the opinion of the great Turgot, we 
learn from his biographer. "M. Turgot," says Condorcet, 



THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 485 

*' believed that the opinion was wrong, which held that, in gen- 
eral, the mind only acquired general or abstract ideas by the 
comparison of more particular ideas. On the contrary, our 
first ideas are very general ; for, seeing at first only a small num- 
ber of qualities, our idea irpcludes all the existences to which 
these qualities are common. As we acquire knowledge, our 
ideas become ♦more particular, without ever reaching the last 
limit ; and, what might have deceived the metaphysicians, it is 
precisely by this process that we learn that these ideas are more 
g(meral than we had at first supposed." 

Here are two opposite opinions, each having nearly equal 
authority in its favor, maintained on both sides with equal abil- 
ity and apparent evidence. Either doctrine would be held 
established were we unacquainted with the arguments in favor 
of the other. 

8. That our first ideas and terms are only vague and confused. 
— But I have now to state to you a third opinion, intermediate 
between these, which conciliates both, and seems, moreover, to 
carry a superior probability in its statement. This opinion 
maintains, that as our knowledge proceeds from the confused 
to the distinct, — from the vague to the determinate, — so, in 
the mouths of children, language at first expresses neither the 
precisely general nor the deter minately individual^ hut the vague 
and confused ; and that, out of this, the universal is elaborated 
by generification, the particular and singular by specification 
and individualization. 

I formerly explained why I view the doctrine held by Mr. 
Stewart and others in regard to perception in general and vision 
in particular, as erroneous ; inasmuch as they conceive that our 
sensible cognitions are formed by the addition of an almost in- 
finite number of separate and consecutive acts of attentive per- 
ception, each act being cognizant of a certain minimum sensibile. 
On the contrary, I showed that, instead of commencing with 
minima, perception commences with masses ; that, though our 
capacity of attention be very limited in regard to the number 
of objects on which a faculty can be simultaneously directed, 
yet these objects may be large or small. We may make, for 

41* 



486 /THE PEIMUM COGNITUM. 

example, a single object of attention either of a whole man, or 
of his face, or of his eje, or of the pupil of his eye, or of a 
speck upon the pupil. To each of these objects there can only 
be a certain amount of attentive perception applied, and we 
can concentrate it all on any one. * In proportion as the object 
is larger and more complex, our attention can of course be less 
applied to a»y part of it, and consequently, our knowledge of it 
in detail will be vaguer and more imperfect. But having first 
acquired a comprehensive knowledge of it as a whole, we can 
descend to its several parts, consider these both in themselves, 
and in relation to each other, and to the whole of which they 
are constituents, and thus attain to a complete and articulate 
knowledge of the object. We decompose, and then we recom- 
pose. 

The mind 'proceeds hy analysis, from the whole to the parts, — 
But in this we always proceed first by decomposition or analysis. 
All analysis indeed supposes a foregone composition or synthesis, 
because we cannot decompose what is not already composite. 
But in our acquisition of knowledge, the objects are presented 
to us compounded ; and they obtain a unity only in the unity of 
our consciousness. The unity of consciousness is, as it were, 
the frame in which objects are seen. I say, then, that the first 
procedure of mind in the elaboration of its knowledge is always 
analytical. It descends from the whole to the parts, — from 
the vague to the definite. Definitude, that is, a knowledge of 
minute differences, is not, as the opposite theory supposes, the 
firsj;, but 'the last, term of our cognitions. Between two sheep 
an ordinary spectator can probably apprehend no difference, 
and if they were twice presented to him, he would be unable 
to discriminate the one from the other. But a shepherd can 
distinguish every individual sheep ; and why ? Because he 
has descended from the vague knowledge which we all have of 
sheep, - — from the vague knowledge which makes every sheep, 
as it were, only a repetition of the same undifferenced unit, — 
to a definite knowledge of qualities by which each is contrasted 
from its neighbor. Now, in this example, we apprehend the 
sheep by marks not less individual than those by which the 



THE PIUMUM COGNITUM. 487 

shepherd discriminates them ; but the whole of each sheep be- 
ing made an object, the marks by which we know it are the 
same in each and all, and cannot, therefore, afford the principle 
by which we can discriminate them from each other. Now this 
is what appears to me to take place with children. They first 
know, — they first cognize, the things and persons presented to 
them as wholes. But wholes of the same kind, if we do not 
descend to their parts, afford us no difference, — no mark by 
which we can discriminate the one from the other. Children, 
thus, originally perceiving similar objects, — persons, for exam- 
ple, — only as wholes, do at first hardly distinguish them. They 
apprehend first the more obtrusive marks that separate species 
from species and, in consequence of the notorious contrast of 
dress, men from women ; but they do not as yet recognize the 
finer traits that discriminate individual from individual. But, 
though thus apprehending individuals only by what we now call 
their specific or their generic qualities, it is not to be supposed 
that children know them by any abstract general attributes, that 
is, by attributes formed by comparison and attention. On the 
other hand, because their knowledge is not general, it is not to 
be supposed to be particular or individual, if by particular be 
meant a separation of species from species, and by individual, 
the separation of individual from individual ; for cliildren are 
at first apt to confound individuals together, not only in name 
but in reality. " A cliild " [says Degerando] " who has been 
taught to say papa^ in pointing to his father, will give at first, 
as Locke [and Aristotle before him] had remarked, the name 
of papa to all the men whom he sees. As he only at first seizes 
on the more striking appearances of objects, they would appear 
to him all similar, and he denotes them by the same names. 
But when it has been pointed out to him that he is mistaken, or 
when he has discovered this by the consequences of his lan- 
guage, he studies to discriminate the objects which he had con- 
founded, and he takes hold of their differences. The child 
commences, like the savage, by employing only isolated words 
in place of phrases ; he commences by taking verbs and nouns 
only in their absolute state. But as these imperfect attempts at 



488 THE PRIMUM COGNITUM. 

speech express at once many and very different things, and pro- 
duce, in consequence, manifold ambiguities, he soon discovers 
the necessity of determining them with greater exactitude ; he 
endeavors to make it understood in what respects the thing 
which he wishes to denote, is distinguished from those with 
which it is confounded; and, to succeed in this endeavor, he 
tries to distinguish them himself. Thus when, at this age, the 
child seems to us as yet unoccupied, he is in reality very busy ; 
he is devoted to a study which differs not in its nature from* that 
to which the philosopher applies himself; the child, like the 
philosopher, observes, compares, and analyses." 

In support of this doctrine I can appeal to high authority ; it 
is that maintained by Aristotle. Speaking of the order of pro- 
cedure in physical science, he says, " We ought to proceed from 
the better known to the less knoAvn, and from what is clearer to 
us to that which is clearer in nature. But those things are first 
known and clearer, which are more complex and confused ; for 
it is only by subsequent analysis that we attain to a knowledge 
of the parts and elements of which they are composed. We 
ought, therefore, to proceed from universals to singulars ; for the 
whole is better known to sense than its parts ; and the universal 
is a kind of w^hole, as the universal comprehends many things 
as its parts. Thus it is that names are at first better known to 
us than definitions ; for the name denotes a whole, and that in- 
determinately ; whereas the definition divides and explicates its 
parts. Children, likewise, at first call all men fathers and all 
women mothers ; but thereafter they learn to discriminate each 
individual from another." 

I have terminated the consideration of the faculty of Com- 
parison in its process of Generalization. I am now to consider it 
in those of its operations, which have obtained the special names 
of Judgment and Reasoning. 

In these processes, the act of Comparison is a judgment of 
something more than a mere afifirmation of the existence of a 
phaenomenon, — something more than a mere discrimination of 
one phaenomenon from another ; and, accordingly, while it has 
happened, that the intervention of judgment in every, even the 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 489 

simplest, act of primary cognition, as monotonous and rapid, 
has been overlooked, the name has been exclusively limited to 
the more varied and elaborate comparison of one notion with 
another, and the enouncement of their agreement or disagree- 
ment. It is in the discharge of this, its more obtrusive, func- 
tion, that we are now about to consider the Elaborative Faculty, 

Why Judgment and Reasoning are necessary. — Considering 
the Elaborative Faculty as a mean of discovering truth, by a 
comparison of the notions we have obtained from the Acquisi- 
tive Powers, it is evident that, though this faculty be the attri- 
bute by which a man is distinguished as a creation higher than 
the animals, it is equally the quality which marks his inferiority 
to superior intelligences. Judgment and Reasoning are ren- 
dered necessary by the imperfection of our nature. Were we 
capable of a knowledge of things and their relations at a single 
view, by an intuitive glance, discursive thought would be a su- 
perfluous act. It is by such an intuition that we must suppose 
that the Supreme Intelligence knows all things at onc\^. 

I have already noticed that our knowledge does not com- 
mence with the individual and the most particular objects of 
knowledge, — that we do not rise in any regular progress from 
the less to the more general, first considering the qualities which 
characterize individuals, then those which belong to species and 
genera, in regular ascent. On the contrary, our knowledge 
commences with the vague and confused, in the way which 
Aristotle has so well illustrated. This I may further explain 
by another analogy. We perceive an object approaching from 
a distance. At first, we do not know whether it be a hving or 
an inanimate thing. By degrees, we become aware that it is an 
animal ; but of what kind, — whether man or beast, — we are 
not as yet able to determine. It continues to advance, we dis- 
cover it to be a quadruped, but of what species we cannot yet 
say. At length, we perceive that it is a horse, and again, after 
a season, we find that it is Bucephalus. Thus, as I formerly 
observed, children, first of all, take note of the generic differ- 
ences, and they can distinguish species long before they are able 
to discriminate individuals. In all this, however, I must again 



490 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

remark, that our knovf ledge does not properly commence with 
the general, but with the vague and confused. Oat of this the 
general and the individual are both equally evolved. 

What is an act ofjiidgment, — " In consequence of this gene- 
alogy of our knowledge," [says Crousaz,] ",we usually com- 
mence by bestowing a name upon a whole object, or congeries 
of objects, of which, however, we possess only a partial and 
indeiinite conception. In the sequel, this vague notion becomes 
somewhat more determinate ; the partial idea which we Lad, 
becomes enlarged by new accessions ; by degrees, our concep- 
tion waxes fuller, and represents a greater number of attributes. 
With this conception, thus amplified and improved, we compare 
the last notion which has been acquired, that is to say, we com- 
pare a part with its whole, or with the other parts of this whole, 
and finding that it is harmonious, — that it dovetails and nat- 
urally assorts with other parts, we acquiesce in this union ; and 
this we denominate an act of judgment, 

"Li learning arithmetic, I form the notion of the number six^ 
as surpassing J^^;e by a single unit, and as surpassed in the same 
proportion by seven. Then I find that it can be divided into 
two equal halves, of which each contains three units. By this 
procedure, the notion of the number six becomes more complex ; 
the notion of an even number is one of its parts. Comparing 
this new notion with that of the number, six becomes fuller by 
its addition. I recognize that the two notions suit, — in other 
words I judge that six is an even number. 

" I have the conception of a triangle, and this conception is 
composed in my mind of several others. Among these partial 
notions, I select that of two sides greater than the third, and 
this notion, which I had at first, as it wei'e, taken apart, I reu- 
nite with the others from which it had been separated, saying' 
the triangle contains always two sides, which together are 
greater than the third. 

" When I say, body is divisible among the notions which 
concur in forming my conception of body, I particularly attend 
to that of divisible, and finding that it really agrees with the 
otliers, I judge accordingly that body is divisible. • 



^\p ' JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 491 

Subject. Predicate. Copula. — ^ " Every time we judge, we 
compare a total conception with a partial, and we recognize that 
the latter really constitutes a part of the foa-mer. One of these 
(•onceptions has received the name of subject, the other, that of 
attribute or predicate.'^ The verb which connects these two 
parts is called the copida. The quadrangle is a double triangle ; 
nine is an odd number ; body is divisible. Here quadrangle, 
nine, body, are subjects ; a double triangle, an o^d number, divis- 
ible, are predicates. The whole mental judgment, formed by the 
subject, predicate, and copula, is called, when enounced in words, 
'proposition. 

" In discourse, the parts of a proposition are not always found 
placed in logical order ; but to discover and discriminate them, 
it is only requisite to ask, — What is the thing of which something 
else is affirmed or denied'^ The answer to this question will 
point out the subject ; and we shall find the predicate if we 
inquire, — What is affirmed or denied of the matter of which we 
speak ? 

"A proposition is sometimes so enounced that each of its 
terms may be considered as subject and as predicate. Tims, 
when we say, — Death is the wages of sin ; we may regard sin 
as the subject of which we predicate death, as one of its conse- 
quences, and we may likewise view death as the subject of 
which we predicate sin, as the origin. In these cases, we must 
consider the general tenor of the discourse, and determine from 
'the context what is the matter of which it principally treats." 

" In fine, when we judge, we must have, in the first place, at 
least two notions ; in the second place, we compare these ; in 
the third, we recognize that one contains or excludes the other ; 
and, in the fourth, we acquiesce in this recognition." 

Reasoning is complex and mediate judgment. — Simple Com- 
parison or Judgment is conversant with two notions, the one of 
which is contained in the other. But it often happens, that one 
notion is contained in another not immediately, but mediately, 
and we may be able to recognize the relation of these to each 
other only through a third, which, as it immediately contains 
the one, is immediately contained in the other. Take the 



492 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

notions, A, B, C. — A contains B ; B contains C ; — A, there 
fore, also contains C. But as, ex hypothesi, we do not at once 
and directly know G as contained in A, we cannot immediately 
compare them together, and judge of their relation. We, there- 
fore, perform a double or complex process of comparison ; we 
compare B with A, and C with B, and then C with A, through 
B. We say B is a part of A ; C is a part of B ; therefore, C 
is a part of A. •This double act of comparison has obtained the 
name of -Reasoning ; the term Judgment being left to express 
the simple act of comparison, or rather its result. 

If this distinction between Judgment and Reasoning were 
merely a verbal difference, to discriminate the simpler and more 
complex act of comparison, no objection could be raised to it on 
the score of propriety, and its convenience would fully warrant 
its establishment. But this distinction has not always been 
meant to express nothing more. It has, in fact, been generally 
supposed to mark out two distinct faculties. 

Two hinds of Reasoning. — Reasoning is either from the " 
whole to its parts; or from all the. parts, discretively, to the 
whole they constitute, collectively. The former of these is De- 
ductive, the latter is Inductive, Reasoning. The statement you 
will find, in all logical books, of reasonings from certain parts to 
the whole, or from certain parts to certain parts, is erroneous. 
I shall first speak of the reasoning from the whole to its parts, — 
or of the Deductive Inference. 

Axiom of Deductive Reasoning, — 1°, It is self-evident, that 
whatever is the part of a part, is a part of the whole. This one 
axiom is the foundation of all reasoning from the whole to the 
parts. There are, however, two kinds of whole and parts ; and 
these constitute two varieties, or rather two phases, of deductive 
reasoning. This distinction, which is of the most important 
kind, has nevertheless been wholly overlooked by logicians, in 
consequence of which the utmost perplexity and confusion have 
been introduced into the science. 

I have formerly stated that a proposition consists of two 
terms, — the one called subject, the other predicate, the subject 
being that of which some attribute is said, the predicate being 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 493 

the attribute so said. Now, in^ different relations, we may re- 
gard the subject as the whole, and the predicate as its part, or 
the predicate as the whole and the su})ject as its part. 

Let us take the proposition, — milk is wJdte, Now, here we 
may either consider the predicate white as one of a number of 
attributes, the whole complement of which constitutes the sub- 
ject milk. In this point of view, the predicate is a part of the 
subject. Or, again, we may consider the predicate white as the 
name of a class of objects, of which the subject is one. In this 
point of view, the subject is a part of the predicate. 

Comprehension and Extension applied to Reasoning, — You 
will remember the distinction, which I formerly stated, of the 
twofold quantity of notions or terms. The Breadth or Exten- 
sion of a notion or term corresponds to the greater number of 
subjects contained under a predicate ; the Depth, Intension, or 
Comprehension of a notion or term, to the greater number of 
predicates contained in a subject. These quantities or wholes 
are always in the inverse ratio of each other. Now, it is sin- 
gular, that logicians should have taken this distinction between 
notions, and yet not have thought of applying it to reasoning. 
But so it is, and this is not the only oversight they have com- 
mitted in the application of the very primary principles of their 
science. The great distinction we have established between the 
subject and predicate considered severally, as, in different rela- 
tions, whole and as part, constitutes the primary and principal 
division of Syllogisms, both Deductive and Inductive ; and its 
introduction wipes off a complex mass of rules and qualifications, 
which the want of it rendered necessary. I can, of course, at 
present, only explain in general the nature of this distinction ; 
its details belong to the science of the Laws of Thought, or 
Logic, of which we are not here to treat. 

Essential and Integral wholes, — I shall first consider the 
process of that Deductive Inference in which the subject is 
viewed as the whole, the predicate as the part. In this reason- 
ing, the whole is determined by the Comprehension, and is, 
again, either a Physical or Essential whole, or an Integral or 
Mathematical whole. A Physical or Essential whole is that 

42 



494 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

which consists of not really separable parts, of or pertaining tc 
its substance. Thus, man is made up of two substantial parts, -— 
a mind and a body ; and each of these has again various quali- 
ties, v/hich, though separable only by mental abstraction, are 
considered as so many parts of an essential whole. Thus, the 
attributes of respiration, of digestion, of locomotion, of color, are 
so many parts of the whole notion we have of the human body ; 
cognition, feeling, desire, virtue, vice, etc., so many parts of the 
whole notion we have of man. A Mathematical, or Integral, or 
Quantitative whole is that which has part out of part, and 
which, therefore, can be really partitioned. The Integral or, 
as it ought to be called. Integrate whole, is composed of inte- 
grant parts which are either homogeneous or heterogeneous. 
An example of the former is given in the division of a square 
into two triangles ; of the latter, of the animal body into head, 
trunk, extremities, etc. 

These wholes (and there are others of less importance 
which I omit), are varieties of that whole which we may call a 
Comprehensive, or Metaphysical ; it might be called a Natural, 
whole. 

Reasoning in the whole of Comprehension, — This being un- 
derstood, let us consider how we proceed when we reason from 
the relation between a Comprehensive whole and its parts. 
Here, as I have said, the subject is the whole, the predicate its 
part; in other words, the predicate belongs to the subject. 
Now here it is evident, that all the parts of the predicate must 
also be parts of the subject ; in other terms, all that belongs to 
the predicate must also belong to the subject. In the words of 
the scholastic adage, — Nota notce est nota rei ipsius ; Predi- 
catam predicati est predicatum subjecti. An example of this 
reasorting : 

Europe contains England ; 

England contains Middlesex ; 

Therefore, Europe contains Middlesex. 

In other words, England is an integrant part of Europe ; 
Middlesex is an integrant part of England ; therefore, Middle- 
sex is an integrant part of Europe. This is an example from a 
mathematical whole and parts. Again : 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 495 

Socrates is just (that is, Socrates contains justice as a qual- 
ity) ; ^ ^ ^ . ^ 

Justice is a virtue (that is, justice contains virtue as a con- 
stituent part) ; 

Therefore, Socrates is virtuous. 

In other words ; — justice is an attribute or essential part of 
Socrates ; virtue is an attribute or essential part of justice ; 
therefore, virtue is an attribute or essential part of Socrates. 
This is an example from a physical or essential whole and 
parts. 

What I have now said will be enough to show, in general, 
what I mean by a deductive reasoning, in which the subject is 
the whole, the predicate the part. 

Reasoning in the whole of Extension, — I proceed, in the sec- 
ond place, to the other kind of Deductive Reasoning, — that in 
which the subject is the part, the predicate is the whole. This 
reasoning proceeds under that species of whole which has been 
called the Logical, or Potential, or Universal. This whole is 
determined by the Extension of a notion ; the genera having 
species, and the species individuals, as their parts. Thus, ani- 
mal is a universal whole, of which hird and beast are immedi- 
ate, eagle and sparrow^ dog and horse, mediate, parts ; while 
man, which, in relation to animal, is a part, is a whole in rela- 
tion to Peter, Paul, Socrates, etc. The parts of a logical or 
universal whole, I^hould notice, are called the subject parts. 

From what you now know of the nature of generalization, 
you are aware, that general terms are terms expressive of attri- 
butes which may be predicated of many different objects ; and 
inasmuch as these objects resemble each other in the common 
attribute, they are considered by us as constituting a class. 
Thus, when I say, that a horse is a quadruped ; Bucephalus is 
a horse; therefore, Bucephalus is a quadruped; — I virtually 
say, — horse, the subject, is a part of the predicate quadruped ; 
Bucephalus^ the subject, is part of the predicate horse ; there- 
fore, Bucephalus, the subject, is part of the predicate quadruped. 
In the reasoning under this whole, you will observe that the 
same word, as it is whole or part, changes from predicate to 



496 -^ JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

subject ; horse ^ when viewed as a part of qiiadrwped^ J)eing the 
subject of the proposition ; whereas when viewed as a whole, 
containing Bucephalus^ it becomes the predicate. 

Axiom of Inductive Reasoning. — Such is a general view of 
the process of Deductive Reasoning under the two great varie- 
ties determined by the two different kinds of whole and parts. 
I now proceed to the counter process, — that of Inductive 
Reasoning. The Deductive is founded on the axiom, that what 
is part of the part, is also part of the containing whole ; the In- 
ductive on the principle, that what is true of every constituent 
part belongs, or does not belong, to the constituted whole. 

Induction proceeds in the two wholes, — Induction, like Deduc- 
tion, may be divided into two kinds, according as the whole 
and parts about which it is conversant, are a Comprehensive or 
Physical or Natural, or an Extensive or Logical whole. Thus, 
in the former : 

Gold is a metal, yellow, ductile, fusible in aqua regia^ of a 
certain specific gravity, and so on ; 

These qualities constitute this body (are all its parts) ; 

Therefore this body is gold. 

In the latter ; — Ox, horse, dog, etc., are animals, — that is, 
are contained under the class animal ; 

Ox, horse, dbg, etc., constitute (are all the constituents of) 
the class quadruped ; 

Therefore, quadruped is contained under animal. 

Both in the Deductive and Inductive processes^ the inference 
must be of an absolute necessity^ in so far as the mental illation 
is concerned ; that is, every consequent proposition must be 
evolved out of every antecedent proposition with intuitive evi- 
dence. I do not mean by this, that the antecedent should be 
necessarily true, or that the consequent be really contained in 
it ; it is sufficient that the antecedent be assumed as true, and 
that the consequent be, in conformity to the laws of thought, 
evolved out of it as its part or its equation. This last is called 
Logical or Formal or Subjective t]:uth ; and an inference may 
be subjectively or formally true, which is objectively or really 
false. 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 497 

The account given of Induction in all works of Logic is ut- 
terly erroneous. Sometimes we find tliis inference described 
as a precarious, not a necessary reasoning. It is called an illa- 
tion from some to all. But here the some^ as it neither contains 
nor constitutes the all, determines no necessary movement, and 
a conclusion drawn under these circumstances is logically 
vicious. Others again describe the Inductive process thus : 

What belongs to some objects of a class belongs to the whole 
class ; 

This property belongs to some objects of the class ; 

Therefore, it belongs to the whole class. 

This account of Induction, which is the one you will find in 
all the English works on Logic, is not an inductive reasoning at 
all. It is, logically considered, a deductive syllogism ; and, log- 
ically considered, a syllogism radically vicious. It is logically 
vicious to say, that, because, some individuals of a class have 
certain common qualities apart from that property which c(;nsti- 
tutes the class itself, therefore the whole individuals of the class 
should partake in these qualities. For this there is no logical 
reason, — no necessity of thought. The probability of this in- 
ference, and it is only probable, is founded pn the observation 
of the analogy of nature, and, therefore, not upon the laAVS of 
thought by which alone reasoning, considered as a logical pro- 
cess, is exclusively governed. To become a formally legitimate 
induction, the objective probability must be clothed with a sub- 
jective necessity, and the some must be translated into the all 
which it is supposed to represent. 

In the deductive syllogism we proceed by analysis, — that is, 
by decomposing a whole into its parts ; hut as the two ivholes 
with which reasoning is conversant are in the inverse ratio of 
each other^ so our analysis in the one will correspond to our syn- 
thesis in the other. For example, when I divide a whole of ex- 
tension into its parts, — when I divide a genus into the species, 
a species into the individuals it contains, — I do so by adding 
new differences, and thus go on accumulating in the parts a 
complement of qualities which did not belong to the wholes. 
This, therefore, which, in point of extension, is an analysis, is* 



498 JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

in point of comprehf nsion, a synthesis. In like manner, when 
1 decompose a whole of comprehension, that is, decompose a 
complex predicate into its constituent attributes, I obtain by this 
process a simpler and more general quality, and thus this, 
which, in relation to a comprehensive whole, is an analysis, is, 
in relation to an extensive whole, a synthesis. As the deduc- 
ti^ e inference is Analytic, the inductive is Synthetic. But as 
induction, equally as deduction, is conversant with both wholes, 
so the Synthesis of induction on the comprehensive whole is a 
reversed process to its synthesis on the extensive whole. 

From what I have now stated, you will, therefore, be aware, 
that the terms analysis and synthesisj when used without quali- 
fication, may be employed at cross purposes, to denote opera- 
tions precisely the converse of each other. And so it has 
happened. Analysis, in the mouth of one set of philosophers, 
means precisely what synthesis denotes in the mouth of an- 
other ; nay, what is even still more frequent, these words are 
perpetually converted with each other by the same philosopher. 
I may notice, what has rarely, if ever, been remarked, that syn- 
thesis in the writings of the Greek logicians is equivalent to the 
analysis of modern philosophers : the former, regarding the ex- 
tensive whole as the principal, applied' analysis, y^at t^o^^rjv, to 
its division ; the latter, viewing the comprehensive whole as the 
principal, in general limit analysis to its decomposition. This, 
however, has been overlooked, and a confusion the most inextri- 
cable prevails in regard to the use of these words, if the thread 
to the labyrinth is not obtained. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. — THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE 

CONDITIONED. 

I NOW enter upon the last of the Cognitive Faculties, — tht 
faculty which I denominated the Regulative. Here the term 
faculty^ you will observe, is employed in a somewhat peculiar 
signification, for it is employed not to denote the proximate 
cause of any definite energy, but the power the mind has of 
being the native source of certain necessary or a priori cogni- 
tions ; which cognitions, as they are the conditions, the forms, 
under which our knowledge in general is possible, constitute so 
many fundamental laws of intellectual nature. It is in this 
sense that I call the power which the mind possesses of modify- 
ing the knowledge it receives, in conformity to its proper nature, 
its Regulative Faculty. The Regulative Faculty is, however, 
in fact, nothing more than the complement of such laws ; — it is 
the locus principiorum. It thus corresponds to what was known 
in the Greek philosophy under the name of vovg, when that 
term was rigorously used. To this faculty has been latterly 
applied the name Reason ; but this term is so vague and am- 
biguous, that it is almost unfitted to convey any definite mean- 
ing. 

Proper use of the term Common Sense, — The term Common 
Sense has likewise been aj^plied to designate the place of prin- 
ciples. This word is also ambiguous. In the Jirst place, it was 
the expression used in the Aristotelic philosophy to denote the 
Central or Common Sensory, in which the differeiit external 
senses met and were united. In tlie second place, it was em- 
ployed to signify a sounci understanding applied to vulgar ob^ 

(499) 



500 THE ARGUMENT FROM COMMON SENSE. 

jects^ in contrast to a scientijic or speculative intelligence ; and it 
is in this signification that it has been taken by those who have 
derided the principle on which the philosophy, which has been 
distinctively denominated the Scottish, professes to be estab^ 
lished. This is not, however, the meaning which has always, or 
even principally, been attached to it ; and an incomparably 
stronger case might be made out in defence of this expression 
than has been done by Reid, or even by Mr. Stewart. It is, in 
fact, a term of high antiquity and very general acceptation. 
We find it in Cicero, in several passages not hitherto observed. 
It is found in the meaning in question in Phsedrus, and not in 
the signification of community of sentiment, which it expresses 
in Horace and Juvenal. And in the same meaning the term 
Sensus Communis is employed by St. Augustin. In modern 
times, it is to be found in the philosophical writings of every 
country of Europe. In fact, so far as use and wont may be 
allowed to weigh, there is perhaps no philosophical expression 
in support of which a more numerous array of authorities may 
be alleged. The expression, however, is certainly exceptiona- 
ble, and it can only claim toleration in the absence of a better. 

I may notice that Pascal and Hemsterhuis have applied Intu- 
ition and Sentiment in this sense ; and Jacobi originally em- 
ployed Belief or Faith in the same way, though he latterly 
superseded this expression by that of Reason, 

[Our cognitions, it is evident, are not all at second hand. 
Consequents cannot, by an infinite regress, be evolved out of an- 
tecedents, which are themselves only consequents. Demonstra- 
tion, if proof be possible, behooves us to repose at last on proposi- 
tions, which, carrying their own evidence, necessitate their own 
admission ; and which being, as primary, inexplicable, as inex- 
plicable, incomprehensible, must consequently manifest them- 
selves less in the character of cognitions than o^ facts ^ of which 
consciousness assures us under the simple form o^ feeling or 
belief 

Without at present attempting to determine the character, 
number, and relations — waiving, in short, all attempt at an 
articulate analysis and classification, of •the primar}' elements of 



THE ARGUIVIENT FROM COMMON Si:>>8E. 501 

cognition, as canying us into a discussion beyond our iimlL^", and 
not of indispensable importance for the end we have in view ; 
it is sufficient to have it conceded, in general, tJtat such elements 
there are ; and this concession of their existence being supposed, 
I shall proceed to hazard some observations, principally in re- 
gai'd to their authority as warrants and criteria of truth. Nor 
can this assumption, of the existence of some original basis of 
knowledge in the mind itself, be refused by any. For even 
tho u [;liilosophers who profess to derive all our knowdedge from 
experience, and who admit no universal truths of intelligence 
but such as are generalized from individual truths of fact — • 
even these philosophers are forced virtually to acknowledge, at 
the root of the several acts of observation from which their rren- 
eralization starts, some law or principle to w^hich they can 
appeal as guaranteeing the procedure, should the validity of 
these primordial acts themselves be called in question. This 
acknowledgment is, among others, made even by Locke ; and 
on such fundamental guarantee of induction he even bestows 
the name of Common Sense. 

Limiting, therefore, our consideration to the question of au- 
thority; how, it is asked, do these primary propositions — these 
cognitions at first hand — these fundamental facts, feelings, be- 
liefs, certify us of their own veracity? To this the only possible 
answer is — that as elements of our mental constitution — as 
the essential conditions of our knowledge — they must by us be 
accepted as true. To suppose their falsehood, is to suppose that 
we are created capable of intelligence, in order to be made tho 
victims of delusion ; that God is a deceiver, and the root of our 
nature a lie. But such a supposition, if gratuitous, is manifestly 
illegitimate. For, on the contrary, the data of our original con- 
sciousness must, it is evident, in the first instance^ be presumed 
true. It is only, if proved false, that their authority can, in 
consequence of that proof ^ be, in i\\Q second instance, disallowed. 
Speaking, therefore, generally, to argue from Common Sense is 
simply to show^ that the denial of a given proposition 'would 
involve the dt-nial of some original datum of consciousness ; hut 
as every original datum of consciousness is to be presumed true^ 



502 THE ARGUMENT FROM COMMON SENSE. 

that the proposition in question^ as dependent on such a principle^ 
must be admitted, 

Though the argument from Common Sense be an appeal to 
the natural convictions of mankind, it is not an appeal from 
philosophy to blind feeling. It is only an appeal, from the 
heretical conclusions of particular philosophies, to the catholic 
principles of all philosophy. The prejudice which, on this sup- 
position, -has sometimes been excited against the argument, is 
groundless. 

Nor is it true, that the argument from Common Sense denies 
the decision to the judgment of philosophers, and accords it to 
the verdict of the vulojar. Nothinoj can be more erroneous. 
We admit — nay we maintain, as D'Alembert well expresses 
it, "that the truth in metaphysic, like the truth in matters of 
taste, is a truth of which all minds have the germ within them- 
selves ; to which, indeed, the greater number pay no attention, 
but which they recognize the moment it is pointed out to them. 
. . . But if, in this sort, all are able to understand, all are not 
able to instruct. The merit of conveying easily to others true 
and simple notions, is much greater than is commonly supposed ; 
for experience proves how rarely this is to be met with. Sound 
metaphysical ideas are common truths, which every one appre- 
hends, but which few have the talent to develop. So difficult is 
it on any subject to make our own what belongs to every one." 
Or, to employ the words of the ingenious Lichtenberg, " Philoso- 
phy, twist the matter as we may, is always a sort of chemistry. 
The peasant employs all the principles of abstract philosophy, 
only inveloped^ latent, engaged, as the men of physical science 
express it ; the Philosopher exhibits the pure principle." 

The first problem of Philosophy — and it is one of no easy 
accomplishment — being thus to seek out, purify, and establish, 
by intellectual analysis and criticism, the elementary feelings 
or beliefs, in which are given the elementary truths of which 
all are in possession ; and the argument from Common Sense 
being the allegation of these feelings or beliefs as explicated 
and ascertained, in proof of the relative truths and their neces- 
sary consequences ; — this argument is manifestly dependent on 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 503 

philosophy, as an art, as an acquired dexterity, and cannot, not- 
withstanding the errors which they have so frequently com- 
mitted, be taken out of the hands of the philosophers. Common 
Sense is like Common Law. Each may be laid down as the 
general rule of decision ; but in the one ca?e, it must be left to 
the jurist, in the other, to the philosopher, to ascertain what are 
the contents of the rule ; and though, in both instances, the com- 
mon man may be cited as a witness for the custom or the fact, 
in neither can he be allowed to officiate as advocate or as judge. 

It must be recollected, also, that in appealing to the conscious- 
ness of mankind in general, we only appeal to the consciousness 
of those not disqualified to pronounce a decision. " In saying," 
(to use the words of Aristotle), " simply and without qualifica- 
tion, that this or that is a known truth, we do not mean that it 
is in fact recognized by all, but only by such as are of sound 
understanding ; just as in saying absolutely that a thing is 
wholesome, we must be held to mean, to such as are of a hale 
constitution." We may, in short, say of the true philosopher 
what Erasmus, in an epistle to Hutten, said of Sir Thomas 
More : — " Nemo minus ducitur viilgijudicio ; sed rursus nemo 
minus abest a sensu communiJ^~\ — Diss, supp, to Reid, 
: Nomenclature of the Regulative Faculty. — Were it allowed 
in metaphysical philosophy, as in physical, to discriminate sci- 
entific differences by scientific terms, I would employ the word 
noetic, as derived from vovg, to express all those cognitions 
that originate in the mind itself, dianoetic to denote the opera- 
tions of the Discursive, Elaborative, or Comparative Faculty. 
So much for the nomenclature of the faculty itself. 

On the other hand, the cognitions themselves, of which it is 
the source, have obtained various appellations. They have 
been denominated j^rs^ ^rmczp/es,"^ common anticipations, prin- 

^ [Without entering on the various meanings of the term Principle, which 
Aristotle defines, in general, that from whence any thing exists, is produced, or 
is known, it is sufficient to say that it is always used for that on which some- 
thing else depends ; and thus both for an original law and for an original 
element. In the former case it is regulative^ in the latter a constitutive, prin- 
ciple ; and in either signification, it may be very properly applied to our 
crig'nal cognitions.] — Diss. supp. to Reid. 



504 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 

ciples of common sense, self-evident or intuitive '^ truths, primitive 
notions, native notions, innate cognitions, natural knowledges 
{cognitions), fundamental reasons, metaphysical or transcendental 
truths, idtirnate or elemental laws of thought, primary or funda- 
mental laws of human belief ov primary laws of human reason,'\ 

^ [The terra Intuition is not unambiguous. Besides its original and 
proper meaning (as a visual perception), it has been employed to denote a 
kind of apprehension and a kind o^ judgment. 

Under the former head, Intuition, or intuitive knowledge, has been used 
in the following significations : 

a. — To denote a perception of the actual and present, in opposition to 
the '^ abstractive ^^ knowledge which we have of the possible in imagination, 
and of the past in memory. 

b. — To denote an immediate apprehension of a thing in itself, in contrast 
to a representative, vicarious, or mediate, apprehension of it, in or through 
something else. 

c. — To denote the knowledge which we can adequately represent in im- 
agination, in contradistinction to the " symbolical '^ knowledge which we 
cannot image, but only think or conceive, through and under a sign or 
word. 

Under the latter head, it has only a single signification; namely: 

To denote the immediate affirmation by the intellect, that the predicate 
does or does not pertain to the subject, in what are called self-evident prop- 
ositions. 

All these meanings, however, have this in common, that they express the 
condition of an immediate, in opposition to a mediate knowledge.] — Diss, 
snpp. to Reid. 

t [Reason is a very vague, vacillating, and equivocal word. Throwing 
aside various accidental significations which it has obtained in particular 
languages, as in Greek denoting not only the ratio, but the oratio, of the 
Latins ; throwing aside its employment, in most languages, for cause, mo- 
tive, argument, principle of probation, or middle term of a syllogism, and con- 
sidering it only as a philosophical word denoting a faculty or comple- 
ment of faculties ; in this relation, it is found employed in the following 
meaning . 

It has, both in ancient and modern times, been very commonly employed, 
VikQ understanding 2iXidi intellect, to diQnotQ our intelligent nature in general; 
and this usually as distinguished from the lower cognitive faculties, as 
Sense, Imagination, Memory — but always, and emphatically, as in con- 
trast to the Feelings and Desires. In this signification, to follow the Aris- 
totelic division, it comprehends — 1°, Conception or Simple Apprehension ; 
2^, the Compositive and Divisive process, Affirmation and Negation, Judgment; 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. * 505 

pure or transcendental^ or a priori cognitions^ categories of 
thought^ natural beliefs,' rational instincts, \ etc. 

t3^, Reasoning or the Discursive faculty ; 4°, Intellect or Intelligence proper, 
either as the intuition, or as the phice, of principles or self-evident truths. 

In modern times, though we frequently meet with Reason, as a general 
faculty, distinguished from Reasoning, as a particular; yet until Kant, I 
am not aware that Reason (Vernunft) was ever exclusively, or even em- 
phatically, used in a signification corresponding to the noetic faculty, in its 
strict and special meaning, and opposed to understanding ( Verstand), viewed 
as comprehending the other functions of thought. 

Though Common Sense be not therefore opposed to Reason, still the 
term Reason is of so general and ambiguous an import, that its employment 
in so determinate a meaning as a synonym of Common Sense ought to be 
avoided. It is only, we have seen, as an expression for the noetic faculty, 
or Intellect proper, that Reason can be substituted for Common Sense.] — 
Diss. supp. to Reid. 

^ [In the Schools, ti anscendentalis and transcendens were convertible ex- 
pressions, employed to mark a term or notion which transcended, that is, 
which rose above, and thus contained under it, the Categories, or summa 
genera, of Aristotle. Such, for example, is Being, of which the ten cate- 
gories are only subdivisions. Kant, according to his wonr, twisted the^e 
old terms into a new signification. First of all, he distinguished them from 
each other. Transcendent he employed to denote what is wholly beyond 
experience, being given neither as an a posteriori nor a priori el^jment of 
cognition — what therefore transcends every category of thought. Tran 
scendental he applied to signify the a priori or necessary cognitions which, 
though manifested in, as affording the conditions of, experience, transcend 
the sphere of that contingent or adventitious knowledge which we acquire 
by experience. Transcendental is not therefore what transcends, but what 
in fact constitutes, a category of thought.] — Diss. supp. to Reid. 

t [Instincts, rational or intellectual. 

These terms are intended to express not so much the light, as the dark, 
side which the elementary facts of consciousness exhibit. They therefore 
stand opposed to the conceivable, the understood, the known. 

As to the impropriety, though, like most other psychological terms, these 
are not unexceptionable, they are however less so than many, nay than 
most, others. An Instinct is an agent which performs blindly and igno- 
rantly a work of intelligence and knowledge. The terms, Instinctive be- 
lief — judgment — cognition are therefore expressions not ill adapted to char- 
acterize a belief, judgment, cognition, which, as the result of no anterior 
consciousness, is, like tte products of animal instinct, the intelligent effect 
of (as far as we are concerned) an unknowing cause. In like manner, we 
can hardly find more suitable expressions to indicate those incomprehensi- 
43 



SOO^ THE REGULATIVE FACULTt. 

Criterion for distinguishing Native from Adventitious Knowl" 
edge, — The history of opinions touching the acceptation, or 
rejection, of such native notions, is, in a manner, the history of 
philosophy : for as the one alternative, or the other, is adopted 
in this question, the character of a system is determined. At 
present, I content myself with stating, that, though from the 
earliest period of philosophy, the doctrine was always common, 
if not always predominant, that our knowledge originated, in 
part at least, in the mind, yet it was only at a very recent date 
that the criterion was explicitly enounced, by which the native 
may be discriminated from the adventitious elements of knowl- 
edge. Without touching on some ambiguous expressions in 
more ancient philosophers, it is sufficient to say, that the char- 
acter of universality and necessity, as the quality by which the 
two classes of knowledge are distinguished, was first explicitly 
proclaimed by Leibnitz. I have already frequently had occasion 
incidentally to notice, that we should carefully distinguish be- 
tween those notions or cognitions which are primitive facts, and 
those notions or cognitions which are generalized or derivative 
facts. The former are given us ; they are not, indeed, obtru- 
sive, — they are not even cognizable of themselves. They lie 
hid in the profundities of the mind, until drawn from their 
obscurity by the mental activity itself employed upon the mate- 
rials of experience. Hence it is, that our knowledge has its 
commencement in sense, external or internal, but its origin in 
intellect. The latter, the derivative cognitions, are of our own 
fabrication ; we form them after certain rules ; they are the 
tardy result of Perception and Memory, of Attention, Reflection, 
Abstraction. The primitive cognitions, on the contrary, seem to 
leap ready armed from the womb of reason, like Pallas from the 
head of Jupiter ; sometimes the mind places them at the com- 
mencement of its operations, in order to have a point of support 

ble spontaneities themselves, of which the primary facts of consciousness 
are the manifestations, than rational or intellectual Instincts. In fact, if 
Keason can justly be called a developed Feeling, it may with no less pro- 
priety be called an illuminated Instinct.] — ■ Diss. supp. to Reid. 

Et quod nunc Ratio, Impetus ante fuit. 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. • 507 

and a fixed basis, without which the operations would be impos" 
sible ; sometimes they form, in a certain sort, the crowning, the 
consummation of all the intellectual operations. The derivative 
or generalized notions are an artifice of intellect, — an ingenious 
mean of giving order and compactness to the materials of our 
knowledge. The primitive and general notions are the root of 
all principles, — the foundation of the whole edifice of human 
science. But how different soever be the two classes of our cog- 
nitions, and however distinctly separated they may be by the cir- 
cumstance, — that we cannot but think the one, and can easily 
annihilate the other in thought, — this discriminative quality 
was not explicitly signalized till done by Leibnitz. The older 
philosophers are at best undeveloped. Descartes made the first 
step towards a more perspicuous discrimination. He frequently 
enounces that our primitive notions (besides being clear and dis- 
tinct) are universal. But this universality is only a derived 
circumstance ; — a notion is universal (meaning thereby that a 
notion is common to all mankind), because it is necessary to the 
thinking mind, — because the mind cannot but think it. 

The enouncement of this criterion was, in fact, a great dis- 
covery in the science of mind ; and the fact that a truth so 
manifest, when once proclaimed, could have lain so long unno- 
ticed by philosophers, may warrant us in hoping that other dis- 
coveries of equal importance may still be awaiting the advent 
of another Leibnitz. Leibnitz has, in several parts of his 
works, laid down the distinction in question; and, what is curi- 
ous, almost always in relation to Locke. " In Locke," [he 
says,] " there are some particulars not ill expounded, but upon 
the whole he has wandered far from the gate, nor has he under- 
stood the nature of the intellect. Had he sufficiently consid- 
ered the difference between necessary truths or those appre- 
hended by demonstration, and those which become known to us 
by induction alone, — he would have seen, that those which are 
necessary could only be approved to us by principles native to 
the mind ; seeing that the senses indeed inform us what may 
take place, but not what necessarily takes place. Locke has not 
observed, that the notions of being, of substance, of one and 



508 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 

the same, of the true, of the good, and many others, are innate 
to our mind, because our mind is innate to itself, and finds all 
these in its own furniture. It is true, indeed, that there is 
nothing in the intellect which was not previously in the sense, — 
except the intellect itself." In [another] place he says, ^ — 
" Hence arises another question, namely : Are all truths de- 
pendent on experience, that is to say, on induction and exam- 
ples ? Or are there some which have another foundation ? 
For if some events Can be foreseen before all trial has been 
made, it is manifest that we contribute something 'on our part. 
The senses, although necessary for all our actual cognitions, are 
not, however,, competent to afford us all that cognitions involve ; 
for the senses never give us more than examples, that is to say, 
particular or individual truths. Now all the examples, which 
confirm a general truth, how numerous soever they may be, are 
insufficient to establish the universal necessity of this same 
truth ; for it does not follow, that what has happened will hap- 
pen always in like manner. For example : the Greeks and 
Romans and other nations have always observed, that, during the 
course of twenty-four hours, day is changed into night, and 
night into day. But we should be wrong, were we to believe 
that the same rule holds everywhere, as the contrary has been 
observed during a residence in Nova Zembla. And he again 
would deceive himself, who should believe that, in our latitudes 
at least, this was a truth necessary and eternal ; for we ought 
to consider, that the earth and the sun themselves have no nec- 
essary existence, and that there will perhaps a time arrive 
when this fair star will, with its whole system, have no longer -a 
place in creation, — - at least under its present form. Hence it 
appears, that the necessary truths, such as we find them in 
Pure Mathematics, and particularly in Arithmetic and Geome- 
try, behoove to have principles the proof of which does not 
depend upon examples, and, consequently, not on the evidence 
of ?ense ; howbeit, that without the senses, we should never 
have found occasion to call them into consciousness. This is 
what it is necessary to distinguish accurately, and it is what 
Euclid has so well understood, in demonstrate i^ or bv reason whal: 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 509 

is sufficiently apparent by experience and sensible images. 
Logic, likewise, with Metaphyics and Morals, the one of which 
constitutes Natural Theology, the other Natural Jurisprudence, 
are full of such truths ; and, consequently, their proof can only 
be derived from internal principles, which we call innate. It is 
true, that we ought not to imagine that we can read in the soul 
these eternal laws of reason ad aperturam lihri^ as we can read 
the edict of the Praetor, without troable or research ; but it is 
enough, that we can discover them in ourselves by dint of atten- 
tion, when the occasions are presented to us by the senses. 
The success of the observation serves to confirm reason, in the 
same way as proofs serve in Arithmetic to obviate erroneous 
calculations, when the computation is long. It is hereby, also, 
that the cognitions of men differ from thost; of beasts. The 
beasts are purely empirical, and only regulate themselves by 
examples ; for as far as we can judge, they never attain to the 
formation of necessary judgments, whereas, men are capable of 
demonstrative sciences, and herein the faculty which brutes pos- 
sess of drawing inferences is inferior to the reason which is in 
men." And, after some other observations, he proceeds : '^ In 
illustration of this, let me make use hkewise of the simile of a 
block of marble which has veins, rather than of a block of 
marble wholly uniform, or of blank tablets, that is to say, what 
is called a tabula rasa by philosophers ; for if the mind resem- 
bled these blank tablets, truths would be in us, as the figure of 
Hercules is in a piece of marble, when the marble is altogether 
indifferent to the reception of this figure or of any other. But 
if we suppose that there are veins in the stone which v/ould 
mark out the figure of Hercules by preference to other figures, 
this stone would be more determined there nnto, and Hercules 
would exist there, innately in a certain sort ; although it would 
require labor to discover the veins, and to clear them by polish- 
ing and the removal of all that prevents their manifestation. 
It is thus that ideas and truths are innate in us ; like our incli 
nations, dispositions, natural habitudes or virtualities, and not as 
actions ; although these virtualities be always accompanied by 
Bome corresponding actions, frequently however unperceived." 

43^ 



510 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 

And in another remarkable passage, Leibnitz says, "The 
mind is not only capable of knowing pure and necessary truths, 
but likewise of discovering them in itself; and if it possessed 
only the simple capacity of receiving cognitions, or the passive 
power of knowledge, as indetermined as that of the wax to re- 
ceive figures, or a blank tablet to receive letters, it would not be 
the source of necessary truths, as I am about to demonstrate 
that it is : for it is incontestable, that the senses could not suffice 
to make their necessity apparent, and that the intellect has, 
therefore, a disposition, as well active as passive, to draw thein 
from its own bosom, although the senses be requisite to furnish 
the occasion, and the attention to determine it upon some in 
preference to others. You see, therefore, these very able phi- 
losophers, who are of a different opinion, have not sufficiently 
reflected on the consequence of the difference that subsists be- 
tween necessary or eternal truths and the truths of experience, 
as I have already observed, and as all our contestation shows. 
The original proof of necessary truths comes from the intellect 
alone, while other truths are derived from experience or the 
observations of sense. Our mind is competent to both kinds of 
knowledge, but it is itself the source of the former ; and how 
great soever may be the number of particular experiences in 
support of a universal truth, we should never be able to assure 
ourselves forever of its universality by induction, unless we 
knew its necessity by reason. The senses may register, justify, 
and confirm these truths, but not demonstrate their infallibility 
and eternal certainty." ^ 

And in speaking of the faculty of such truths, he says : " It 
is not a naked faculty, which consists in the mere possibility of 
understanding them ; it is a disposition, an aptitude, a preforma- 
tion, which determines our mind to elicit, and which causes that 
they can be elicited ; precisely as there is a difference between 
the figures which are bestowed indifferently on stone or marble, 
and those which veins mark out or are disposed to mark out, if 
the sculptor avail himself of the indications." 

Reid made the same discrimination, — We have thus seen 
that* Leibnitz was the first philosopher who explicitly established 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 511 

the quality of necessity as the criterion of distinction between 
empirical and a priori cognitions. I may, however, remark, 
what is creditable to Dr. Reid's sagacity, that he founded the 
same discrimination on the same difference : and I am disposed 
to think that he did this without being aware of his coincidence 
with Leibnitz ; for he does not seem to have studied the system 
of that philosopher in his own works ; and it was not till Kant 
had shown the importance of the criterion, by its application in 
his hands, that the attention of the learned was called to the 
scattered notices of it in the writings of Leibnitz. In spealdng 
of the principle of causality, Dr. Reid says : " We are next to 
consider whether we may not learn this truth from experience, 

— That effects which have all the marks and tokens of design, 
must proceed from a designing cause." 

" I apprehend that we cannot learn this truth from experi- 
ence, for two reasons. 

''First, Because it is a necessary truth, not a contmgent one. 
It agrees with the experience of mankind since the beginning 
of the world, that the area of a triangle is equal to half the 
rectangle under its base and perpendicular. It agrees no less 
with experience, that the sun rises in the east and sets in the 
west. So far as experience goes, these truths are upon an 
equal footing. But every man perceives this distinction be- 
tween them, — that the first is a necessary truth, and that it is 
impossible that it should not be true ; but the last is not neces- 
sary, but contingent, depending upon the will of Him who made 
the world. As we cannot learn from experience that twice 
three must necessarily make six, so neither can we learn from 
experience that certain effects must proceed from a designing 
and intelligent cause. Experience informs us only of what haf; 
been, but never of what must be." 

And in speaking of our belief in the principle that an effec* 
manifesting design must have had an intelligent cause, he says, 

— " It has been thought, that, although this principle does not 
admit of proof from abstract reasoning, it may be proved from 
experience, and may be justly drawn by induction from in- 
stances that fall within our observation. 



512 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 

" I conceive this metliod of proof will leave us in great un- 
certainty, for these three reasons : 

" 1st, Because the proposition to be proved is not a contingent 
but a necessary/ proposition. It is not that things which begin 
to exist commonly have a cause, or even that they always in 
fact have a cause ; but that they must have a cause, and cannot 
begin to exist without a cause. 

" Propositions of this kind, from their nature, are incapable 
of proof by induction. Experience informs us only of what is 
or has been, not of what must he ; and the conclusion must be 
of the same nature with the premises. 

" For this reason, no mathematical proposition can be proved 
by induction. Though it should be found by experience in a 
thousand cases, that the area of a plain triangle is equal to the 
rectangle under the altitude and half the base, this would not 
prove that it must be so in all cases, and cannot be otherwise ; 
which is what the mathematician affirms. 

" In like manner, though we had the most ample experimen- 
tal proof, that things which had begun to exist had a cause, this 
would not prove that they must have a cause. Experience 
may show us what is the established course of nature, but can 
never show what connection of things are in their nature neces- 
sary. 

" 2dly. General maxims, grounded on experience, have only a 
degree of probability proportioned to the extent of our experi- 
ejice ; and ought always to be understood so as to leave room for 
exceptions, if future experience should discover any such. 

" The law of gravitation has as full proof from experience 
and induction as any principle can be supposed to have. Yet, 
if any philosopher should, by clear experiment, show that there 
is a kind of matter in some bodies which does not gravitate, the 
law of gravitation ought to be limited by that exception. 

'^ Now it is evident that men have never considered the prin- 
ciple of the necessity of causes as a truth of this kind, which 
may admit of limitation or exception ; and therefore it has not 
been received upon this kind of evidence. 

" ^dly, I do not see that experience could satisfy us that ev- 
ery change in nature actually has a cause. 



THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 513 

" In the far greatest part of the changes in nature that fall 
within our observation, the causes are unknown ; and, therefore, 
from experience, we cannot know whether they have causes or 
not. 

" Causation is not an object of sense. The only experience 
we can have of it, is in the consciousness we have of exerting 
some power in ordering our thoughts and actions. But tliis ex- 
perience is surely too narrow a foundation for a general conclu- 
sion, that all things that have had or shall have a beginning, 
must have a cause." 

How many cognitions should he ranlced as ultimate, — But 
though it be now generally acknowledged, by the profoundest 
thinkers, that it is impossible to analyze all our knowledge into 
the produce of experience, external or internal, and that a cer- 
tain complement of cognitions must be allowed as having their 
origin in the nature of the thinking principle itself; they are 
not at one in regard to those which ought to be recognized as 
ultimate and elemental, and those which ought to be regarded 
as modifications or combinations of these. Reid and Stewart, 
(the former in particular), have been considered as too easy in 
their admission of primary laws ; and it must be allowed that 
the censure, in some instances, is not altogether unmerited. 
But it ought to be recollected, that those who thus agree in 
reprehension are not in unison in regard to the grounds of cen- 
sure ; and they wholly forget that our Scottish philosophers 
made no pretension to a final analysis of the primary laws of 
human reason, — that they thought it enough to classify a cer- 
tain number of cognitions as native to the mind, leaving it to 
their successors to resolve these into simpler elements. " The 
labyrinth," [says Dr. Reid,] " may be too intricate, and the 
thread too fine, to be traced through all its windings ; but, if we 
stop where we can trace it no further, and secure the ground 
we have gained, there is no harm done ; a quicker eye may in 
time trace it further." The same view has been likewise well 
stated by Mr. Stew^art. " In all the other sciences, the progress 
of discovery has been gradual, from the less general to the more 
general laws of nature ; and it would be singular indeed, if, in 



514 THE REGULATIVE FACULTY. 

this science, wliicli but a few years ago was confessedly in its 
infancy, and which certainly labors under many disadvantages 
peculiar to itself, a step should all at once be made to a single 
principle, comprehending all tlie particular phenomena which 
we know. As the ordei* established in the intellectual world 
seems to be regulated by laws analogous to those which we trace 
among the phenomena of the material system ; and as in all our 
philosophical inquiries (to whatever subject they may relate), 
the progress of the mind is liable to be affected by the same 
tendency to a premature generalization, the following extract 
from an eminent chemical writer may contribute to illustrate 
the scope and to confirm the justness of some of the foregoing 
reflections. ' Within the last fifteen or twenty years, several 
new metals and new earths have been made known to the 
world. The names that support these discoveries are respecta- 
ble, and the experiments decisive. If we do not give our assent 
to them, no single proposition in chemistry can for a moment 
stand. But whether all these are really simple substances, or 
compounds not yet resolved into their elements, is what the 
authors themselves cannot possibly assert ; nor would it, in the 
least, diminish the merit of their observations, if future experi- 
ments should prove them to have been mistaken, as to the sim- 
plicity of these substances. This remark should not be confined 
to later discoveries ; it may as justly be applied to those earths 
and metals with which we have been long acquainted.' ' In the 
dark ages of chemistry, the object was to rival Nature ; and the 
substance which the adepts of those days were busied to create, 
was universally allowed to be simple. In a more enlightened 
period, we have extended our inquiries and multiplied the num- 
ber of the elements. The last task will be to simplify ; and by 
a closer observation of Nature, to learn from what a small store 
of primitive materials, all that we behold and wonder at was 
created.' " 

That the list of the primary elements of human reason, which 
our two philosophers have given, has no pretence to order; and 
that the principles which it contains are not systematically 
deduced by any ambitious process of metaphysical ingenuity, is 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 515 

no valid ground of disparagement. In fact, which of the vaunted 
classifications of these primitive truths can stand the test of criti- 
cism ? The most celebrated, and by far the most ingenious, of 
these, — the scheme of Kant, — though the truth of its details 
may be admitted, is no longer regarded as affording either a 
necessary deduction or a natural arrangement of our native cog- 
nitions; and the reduction of these to system still remains a 
problem to be resolved. 

Distinction between Positive and Negative Necessity, — In 
point of fact, philosophers have not yet purified the antecedent 
conditions of the problem, — have not yet established the prin- 
ciples on which its solution ought to be undertaken. And here 
I would solicit your attention to a circurjistance, which shows 
how far philosophers are still removed from the prospect of an 
ultimate decision. It is agreed, that the quality of necessity is 
that which discriminates a native from an adventitious element 
of knowledge. When we find, therefore, a cognition which con- 
tains this discriminative quality, we are entitled to lay it down 
as one which could not have been obtained as a generalization 
from experience. This I admit. But when philosophers lay 
it down not only as native to the mind, but as a positive and 
immediate datum of an intellectual power, I demur. It is 
evident that the quality of necessity in a cognition may depend 
on two different and opposite principles, inasmuch as it may 
either he the result of a power^ or of a powerlessness of the think- 
tny principle. In the one case, it will be a Positive, in the 
other a Negative, necessity. Let us take examples of these 
opposite cases. In an act of perceptive consciousness, I think, 
and cannot but think, that I and that something different from 
me exist, — in other words, that my perception, as a modification 
of the Ego, exists, and that the object of my perception, as a 
modification of the Non-ego, exists. In these circumstances, I 
pronounce Existence to be a native cognition, because I find 
that I cannot think except under the condition of thinking all 
that I am conscious of to exist. Existence is thus a form, a cat- 
egory, of thought. But here, though I cannot but think exist- 
ence, I am conscious of this thought as an act of power, — an 



516 THE PHILOSOFHY OF THE COKDITIONED. 

act of intellectual force. It is the result of strength, and not of 
weakness. 

In like manner, when I think 2X^ = 4, the thought, though 
inevitable, is not felt as an imbecility ; we know it as true, and, 
in the perception of the truth, though the act be necessary, the 
mind is conscious that the necessity does not arise from impo- 
tence. On the contrary, we attribute the same necessity to God. 
Here, therefore, there is a class of natural cognitions, which we 
may properly view as so many positive exertions of the mental 
vigor, and the cognitions of this class we consider as Positive. 
To this class will belong the notion of Existence and its modifi- 
cations, the principles of Identity, and Contradiction, and Ex- 
cluded Middle, the intuitions of Space and Time, etc. 

The Negative sort of Necessity illustrated, — But besides these, 
there are other necessary forms of thought, which, by all philos- 
ophers, have been regarded as standing precisely on the same 
footing, which to me seem to be of a totally different kind. In 
place of being the result of a power, the necessity- which belongs 
to them is merely a consequence of the impotence of our facul- 
ties. But if this be the case, nothing could be more unphilo- 
sophical than to arrogate to these negative inabilities the dignity 
of positive energies. Every rule of philosophizing would be 
violated. The law of Parcimony prescribes, that principles are 
not to be multiplied without necessity, and that an hypothetical 
force be not postulated to explain a phaenomenon which can be 
better accounted for by an admitted impotence. The phaenom- 
enon of a heavy body rising from the earth, may warrant us in 
the assumption of a special power ; but it would surely be 
absurd to devise a special power (that is, a power besides 
gravitation) to explain the phoenomenon of its descent. 

Now, that the imbecility of the human mind constitutes a 
great negative; principle, to which sundry of the most important 
phgenomena of intelligence may be referred, appears to me 'in- 
contestable ; and though the discussion is one somewhat abstract, - 
I shall endeavor to give you an insight into the nature and ap- 
plication of this principle. 

I begin by the statement of certain principles, to which it is 
necPF-sarv in th'^ s^q^iel to refer. 



THE PHILOSoriir OF THE CONDITIONED. 517 

The highest of all logical laws, in other words the supreme 
law of thought, is what is called the principle of Contradiction, 
or more correctly the priuQciple of Non-Contradiction.* It is 



^ [The doctrines of Contradiction, or of Contradictories, that Affirmation 
or Negation is a necessity of thought, whilst Affirmation and Negation aro 
incompatible, is developed into three sides or phases, each of which implies 
both the others, — phases which may obtain, and actually have received, 
severally, the name of Law, Principle, or Axiom. Neglecting the historical 
order in which these were scientifically named and articulately developed, 
they are : 

1°, The Law, Principle, or Axiom, of Identity, Avhich, in regard to the 
same thing, immediately or directly enjoins the affirmation of it with itself, 
and mediately or indirectly prohibits its negation : {A is A). 

2°, The Law, etc., of Contradiction (proipGrly Non-contradiction) , which, in 
regard to contradictories, explicitly enjoining their reciprocal negation, im- 
plicitly prohibits their reciprocal affirmation: {A is not Not-A) . In other 
words, contradictories are thought as existences incompatible at the same 
time, — as at once mutually exclusive. 

3°, The Law, etc., of Excluded Middle or Third, which declares that, 
whilst contradictories are only two, every thing, if explicitly thought, must 
be thought as of these either the one or the other : (A is either B or Not-B). 
In different terms : — Affirmation and negation of the same thing, in tlu 
same respect, have no conceivable medium ; whilst any thing actually may 
and virtually must, be either affirmed or denied of any thing. In othei 
words : — Every predicate is true or false of every subject; or, contradicto- 
ries are thought as incompossible, but, at the same time, the one or the 
other as necessary. The argument from Contradiction is omnipotent within 
its sphere, but that sphere is narrow. It has the following limitations : 

1", It is negative, not positive; it may refute, but it is incompetent to 
establish. It may show what is not, but never of itself what is. It is 
exclusively Logical or Formal, not Metaphysical or Keal ; it proceeds on 
a necessity of thought, but never issues in an Ontology or knowledge of 
existence. 

2°, It is dependent ; to act it presupposes a counter-proposition to act 
from. 

3°, It is explicative, not ampliative; it analyzes what is given, but does 
not originate information, or add any thing, through itself, to our stock of 
knowledge. 

4°, But, what is its principal defect, it is partial, not thorough-going. It 
leaves many of the most important problems of our knowledge out of its 
determination ; and is, therefore, all too narrow in its application as a uni- 
versal criterion or instrument of judgment. For were we left, in our rea^ 



518 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

this: A thing cannot be and not be at the same time, — Alpha 
est, Alpha non est, are propositions which cannot both be true at 
once. A second fundamental law of thought, or rather the 
principle of Contradiction viewed in a certain aspect, is called 
the principle of Excluded Middle, or, more fully, the principle 
of Excluded Middle between two Contradictories. A thing 
either is or is not, — Aut est Alpha, aut non est ; there is no me- 
dium ; one must be true, both cannot. These principles require, 
indeed admit of, no proof. They prove every thing, but are 
proved by nothing. When I therefore have occasion to speak 
of these laws by name, you will know to what principle I refer. 
Hamilton's one grand law of thought illustrated, > — Now, then, 
I lay it down as a law, which, though not generalized by philoso- 
phers, can be easily proved to be true by its application to the 
phaenomena : That all that is conceivable in thought, lies between 
two extremes, which, as co7itradictory of each other, cannot both 
be true, but of which, as mutual contradictories, one must. For 
example, we conceive Space, — we cannot but conceive Space. 
I admit, therefore, that Space indefinitely is a positive and nec- 
essary form of thought. But when philosophers convert the 
fact, that we cannot but think space, or, to express it differently, 
that we are unable to imagine any thing out of space, — when 
philosophers, I say, convert this fact with the assertion, that we 

have a notion, — a positive notion, of absolute or of infinite 

• 

space, they assume, not only what is not contained in the phae- 
nomenon, nay, they assume what is the very reverse of what 
the phaenomenon manifests. It is plain, that space must either 
be bounded or not bounded. These are contradictory alterna- 

sonings, to a dependence on the principle of Contradiction, we should be 
unable competently to attempt any argument with regard to some of the 
most interesting and important questions. For there are many problems 
in the philosophy of mind where the solution necessarily lies between wha 
are, to us, the one or the other of two counter, and, therefore, incompatible 
alternatives, neither of which are we able to conceive as possible, but of 
which, by the very conditions of thought, we are compelled to acknowledge 
that the one or the other cannot but be ; and it is as supplying this defi- 
ciency, that what has been called the argument from Common Sense 
becomes principally useful.] — Appendix, 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 519 

tives ; on the principle of Contradiction, they cannot both be 
true ; and, on the principle of Excluded Middle, one must be 
true. This cannot be denied, without denying the primary laws 
of intelligence. But though space must be admitted to be neces- 
sarily either Jinite or infinite^ we are able to conceive the possi- 
bility neither of its jinitude nor of its infinity. 

We are altogether unable to perceive space as bounded, — as 
finite ; that is, as a whole beyond which there is no further 
space. Every one is conscious that this is impossible. It con- 
tradicts also the supposition of space as a necessary notion ; for 
if we could imagine space as a terminated sphere, and that 
sphere not itself enclosed in a surrounding space, we should not 
be obliged to think every thing in space ; and, on the contrary, 
if we did imagine this terminated sphere as itself in space, in 
that case, we should not have actually conceived all space as 
a bounded whole. The one contradictory is thus found incon- 
ceivable; we cannot conceive space as positively limited. 

This law applied to space as a maximum, — On the other 
hand, we are equally powerless to realize in thought the4)ossi- 
bility of the opposite contradictory ; we cannot conceive space 
as infinite, as without limits. You may launch out in thought 
beyond the solar walk, you may transcend in fancy even the 
universe of matter, and rise from sphere to sphere in the region 
of empty space, until imagination sinks exhausted ; — with all 
this, what have you done ? You have never gone beyond the 
finite, you have attained at best only to the indefinite, and the 
indefinite, however expanded, is still always the finite. As Pascal 
energetically says, " Inflate our conceptions as we may, with all 
the finite possible, we cannot make one atom of the infinite." 
" The infinite is infinitely incomprehensible." Now, then, both 
contradictories are equally inconceivable ; and could we limit our 
attention to one alone, we should deem it at once impossible and 
absurd, and suppose its unknown opposite as necessarily true. 
But as we not only can, but are constrained to consider both, we 
find that both are equally incomprehensible ; and yet, though 
unable to view either as possible, we are forced by a higher law 
to admit that one, but one only, is necessary. 



520 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

Space as a minimum also inconceivable, — That the conceiv- 
able lies also between two inconceivable extremes, is illustrated 
by every other relation of thought. \¥e have found the maxi- 
mum of space incomprehensible ; can we comprehend its mini- 
mum ? This is equally impossible. Here, likewise, we recoil 
from one inconceivable contradictory only to infringe upon an- 
other. Let us take a portion of space, however small ; we can 
never conceive it as the smallest. It is necessarily extended, 
and may, consequently, be divided into a half or quarters, and 
each of these halves or quarters may again be divided into other 
halves or quarters, and this ad infinitum. But if we are unable 
to construe to our mind the possibility of an absolute minimum 
qf space, we can as little present to ourselves the possibility of 
an infinite divisibility of any extended entity. 

Time also inconceivable, either as a maximum or a minimum, — 
In like manner, Time ; — this is a notion even more universal than 
space, for while we exempt from occupying space the energies 
of mind, we are unable to conceive these as not occupying time. 
Thus, we think every thing, mental and material, as in time, and 
out of time we can think nothing. But, if we attempt to compre- 
hend time, either in whole or in part, we find that thought is 
hedged in between two incomprehensibles. Let us try the whole. 
And here let us look back, — let us consider time a parte ante. 
And here, we may surely flatter ourselves, that we shall be able 
to conceive time as a whole, for here we have the past period 
bounded by the present ; the past cannot, therefore, be infinite 
or eternal, for a bounded infinite is a contradiction. But we 
shall deceive ourselves. We are altogether unable to conceive 
time as commencing ; we can easily represent to ourselves time 
under any relative limitation of commencement and termination ; 
but we are conscious to ourselves of nothing more clearly, than 
that it would be equally possible to think without thought, as to 
construe to the mind an absolute commencement, or an absolute 
termination, of time ; that is, a beginning and an end beyond 
which time is conceived as non-existent. Goad imagination to 
the utmost, it still sinks paralyzed within the bounds of time, 
and time survives as the condition of the thought itself in wliich 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIOXED. 521 

we annihilate the universe. On the other hand, the concept of 
past time as without hmit, — without commencement, is equally 
impossible. We cannot conceive the infinite regress of time ; 
for such a notion could only be realized by the infinite addition 
in thought of finite times, and such an addition would itself 
require an eternity for its accomj^lishment. If we dream of 
effecting this, we only deceive ourselves by substituting the 
indefinite for the infinite, than which no two notions can be more 
opposed. The negation of a commencement of time involves, 
likewise, the affirmation, that an infinite time has, at every 
moment, already run ; that is, it implies the contradiction, that 
an infinite has been completed. For the same reasons, we are 
unable to conceive an infinite progress of time ; while the in- 
finite regress and the mfinite progress, taken together, involve 
the triple contradiction of an infinite concluded, of an infinite 
commencing, and of two infinities, not exclusive of each other. 

Now take the parts of time, — a moment, for instance ; this 
we must conceive, as either divisible to infinity, or that it is 
made up of certain absolutely smallest parts. One or the other 
of these contradictories must be the case. But each is, to us, 
equally inconceivable. Time is a protensive quantity, and, con- 
sequently, any part of it, however small, cannot, without a con- 
tradiction, be imagined as not divisible into parts, and these 
parts into others ad infinitum. But the opposite alternative is 
equally impossible ; we cannot think this infinite division. One 
is necessarily true ; but neither can be conceived possible. It 
is on the inability of the mind to conceive either the ultimate 
indivisibility, or the infinite divisibility of space and time,, that 
the arguments of the Eleatic Zeno against the possibility of 
motion are founded, — arguments which at least show, that mo- 
tion, however certain as a fact, cannot be conceived possible, as 
it involves a contradiction."^ 

^ [Contradictions proving the Psychological Theory of the Conditioned. 

1. Finite cannot comprehend, contain the Infinite. — Yet an inch or min- 
ute, say, are finites, and are divisible ad infinitum, that is, their terminated 
division incogitable. 

44* 



522 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

This grand principle called the Law of the Conditioned. — 
The same principle could be shown in various other relations, 
but what I have now said is, I presume, sufficient to make you 
understand its import. Now, the law of mind, that the con- 
ceivahle is in every relation hounded by the inconceivabUj I call 

2. Infinite cannot be terminated or begun. — Yet eternity ah ante ends 
now ; and eternity a post begins now. — So apply to Space. 

3. Tli«re cannot be two infinite maxima. — Yet eternity ab ante and a 
post are two infinite maxima of time. 

4. If an infinite maximum be cut into two, the halves cannot be each in- 
finite, for nothing can be greater than infinite, and thus they could not be 
parts ; nor finite, for thus two finite halves would make an infinite whole. 

5. What contains infinite extensions, protensions, intensions, [three 
modes of quantity,] cannot* be passed through, — come to an end. An 
inch, a minute, a degree contains these ; ergo, etc. Take a minute. This 
contains an infinitude of protended quantities, which must follow one after 
another-; but an infinite series of successive protensions can, ex termino, 
never be ended ; ergo, etc. 

6. An infinite maximum cannot but be all inclusive. Time ab ante and 
a post [are] infinite and exclusive of each other ; ergo. 

7. An infinite number of quantities must make up either an infinite or 
a finite whole. I. The former. — But an inch, a minute, a degree, contain 
each an infinite number of quantities ; therefore, an inch, a minute, a de- 
gree, are each infinite wholes ; which is absurd. II. The latter. — An in- 
finite number of quantities would thus make up a finite quantity ; which is 
equally absurd. 

8. If we take a finite quantity (as an inch, a minute, a degree), it would 
appear equally that there are, and that there are not, an equal number of 
quantities between these and a greatest, and between these and a least. 

9. An absolutely quickest motion is that which passes from one point to 
another in space in a minimum of time. But a quickest motion from one 
point to another, say a mile distance, and from one to another, say a mil- 
lion million of miles, is thought the same ; which is abs'urd. 

10. Awheel turned with, quickest motion; if a spoke be prolonged, it 
will therefore be moved by a motion quicker than the quickest. The same 
may be shown using the rim and the nave. 

1 1 . Contradictory are Boscovich Points, which occupy space, and are in- 
extended. Dynamism, therefore, inconceivable. E contra, 

12. Atomism also inconceivable; for this supposes atoms, — minima 
extended but indivisible. 

13. A quantity, say a foot, has an infinity of parts. Any part of this 
quantity, say an inch, has also an infinity. But one infinity is not larger 
than another. Therefore, an inch is equal to a foot.] — Appendix. 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 523 

the Law of tlie Conditioned. You will find many philosoplierg 
who hold an opinion the reverse of thi's, — maintaining that '' the 
Absolute " is a native or necessary notion ot intelligence. This, 
T conceive, is an opinion founded on vagueness and confusion. 
They tell us we have a notion of absolute or infinite space, of 
absolute or infinite time. But they do not tell us in which of 
the opposite contradictories this notion is realized. Though 
these are exclusive of each other, and though bT)th are only ne- 
gations of the conceivable on its opposite poles, they confound 
together these exclusive inconceivables into a single notion ; 
suppose it positive, and baptize it with the name of Absolute. 
The sum, therefore, of what I have now stated is, that the Con- 
ditioned is that which is alone conceivable or Cogitable ; the Un- 
conditioned^ that 'which is inconceivable or incogitable. The 
Conditioned or the thinkable lies between two extremes or 
poles ; and these extremes or poles are each of them Uncondi- 
tioned, each of them inconceivable, each of them exclusive or 
contradictory of the other. Of these two repugnant opposites, 
the one is that of Unconditional or Absolute Limitation ; the 
other, that of Unconditional or Lifinite Illimitation. The one 
we may, therefore, in general call the Absolutely Unconditioned, 
the other the Infinitely Unconditioned ; or, more simply, the 
Absolute and the Infinite ; the term Absolute expressing that 
which is finished or complete, the term Infinite, that which 
cannot be terminated or concluded. These terms, which, like 
the Absolute and Infinite themselves, philosophers have con- 
founded, ought not only to be distinguished, but opposed as con- 
tradictory. The notion of either unconditioned is negative : — 
the Absolute and the Infinite can each only be conceived as a 
negation of the thinkable. In other words, of the Absolute and 
Infinite we have no conception at all. 

[To recapitulate : — In our opinion, the mind can conceive, and, 
consequently, can know, only the limited, and the conditionally 
limited. The unconditionally unlimited, or the Infinite, — the 
unconditionally limited, or the Absolute, — cannot positively be 
construed to the mind ; they can be conceived, only by a think- 
ing away from, or abstraction of, those very conditions under 



521 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

which thought itself is realized ; consequently, the notion of the 
Unconditioned is only negative — negative of the conceivable 
itself. For example, on the one hand we can positively con- 
ceive, neither an absolute whole, that is, a whole so great, that 
we cannot also conceive it as a relative part of a still greater 
whole ; nor an absolute part, that is, a part so small, that we 
cannot also conceive it as a relative whole, divisible into smaller 
parts. On the other hand, we cannot positively represent, or 
realize, or construe to the mind (as here Understanding and 
Imagination coincide),"^ an infinite whole ; for this could only be 
done by the infinite synthesis in thought of finite wholes, which 
M^ould itself require an infinite time for its accomplishment ; nor, 
for the same reason, can we follow out in thought aii infinite di- 
visibility of parts. The result is the same, whether we apply 
the process to limitation in space^ in time^ or in degree. The un- 
conditional negation, and the unconditional affirmation of limita- 
tion, — in other words, the Infinite and the Absolute, — properly 
so calledjf are thus inconceivable to us. 

=^ [The Understanding, thought proper, notion, concept, etc., may coin- 
cide or not with Imagination, representation proper, image, etc. The two 
faculties do not coincide in a general notion ; for we cannot represent Man 
or Horse in an actual image without individualizing the universal ; and 
thus contradiction emerges. But in the individual, say Socrates or Bu- 
cephalus, they do coincide ; for I see no valid ground why we should not 
think, in the strict sense of the word, or conceive, the individuals which we 
represent. In like manner, there is no mutual contradiction between the 
image and the concept, of the Infinite or Absolute, if these be otherwise 
possible ; for there is not necessarily involved the incompatibility of the 
one act of cognition with the oUier.j 

t [The terms Infinite, and Absolute, and Unconditioned, ought not to be 
confounded. The Unconditioned, in our use of language, denotes the ge- 
nus of which the Infinite and Absolute are the species. 

The term Absolute is of twofold (if not threefold) ambiguity, corre- 
sponding to the double (or treble) signification of tlie word in Latin. 

1. Ahsolidum means what i^ freed or loosed; in which sense, the Absolute 
will be what is aloof from relation, comparison, limitation, condition, de- 
pendence, etc., and thus is tantamount to to airolvrov of the lower Greeks. 
In this meaning, the Absolute is not opposed to the Infinite. 

2. Ahsoluiam m.Qa,ns finished, perfected, completed; in which sense, the Ab- 
solute will be what is out of relation, etc., a-s finished, perfect, complete, 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 525 

As the conditionally limited (which we may briefly call the 
Conditioned) is thus the only possible object of knowledge and 
of positive thought — -thought necessarily sup[)Oses conditions. 
To think is to condition ; and conditional limitation is the fun- 
damental law of the possibility of thought. For, as the grey- 
hound cannot outstrip his shadow, nor (by a more appropriate 
simile) the eagle outsoar the atmosphere in which he floats, and 
by which alone he is supported ; so the mmd cannot transcend 
that sphere of limitation, within and through which exclusively 
the possibility of thought is realized. Thought is only of the 
Conditioned ; because, as we have said, to think is simply to 
condition. The Absolute is conceived merely by a negation of 
conceivability ; and all that w^e know, is only known as 

"won from the void and formless Infinite.'^ 



How, indeed, it could ever be doubted that thought is only of 
the Conditioned, may well be deemed a matter of the profound- 
est admiration. Thought cannot transcend consciousness ; con- 
sciousness is only possible under the antithesis of a subject and 
object of thought, known only in correlation, and mutually lim- 
iting each other ; while, independently of all this, all that we 
know either of subject or object, either of mind or matter, is 

total, and thus corresponds to rb o\ov and to teTiclov of Aristotle. In this 
acceptation — and it is that in which for myself I exclusively use it — the 
Absolute is diametrically opposed to, is contradictory of, the Infinite. 

Besides these two meanings, there is to be noticed the use of the word, 
Vor the most part in its adverbial form; — absolutely (absolute) in the sense 
of simply, simpliciter (dTzXcog), that is, considered in and for itself — consid- 
ered not in relation. This holds a similar analogy to the two former 
meanings of absolute, which the Indefinite [to doptoTov) does to the Infi- 
nite (to d-KELpov). It is subjective as they are objective; it is in our 
thought as they are in their own existence. This application is to be dis- 
counted, as here irrelevant.] 

[Tho Infinite and Absolute are only the names of two counter imbecili- 
ties of the human mind, transmuted into properties of the nature of things 
— of two subjective negations, converted into objective affirmations. We 
tire ourselves, either in adding to, or in taking from. Some, more reasona- 
bly, call the thing unfinishable — infinite; others, less rationally, call it fin- 
ished — absolute. But in both cases, the metastasis is in itself irrational. 1 



526 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

onlj a knowledge in each of the particular, of the plural, of the 
different, of the modified, of the phsenomenah We admit that 
the consequence of this doctrine is — that philosophy, if viewed 
as more than a science of the Conditioned, — is impossible. De- 
parting from the particular, we admit that we can never, in our 
highest generalizations, rise above the Finite ; that our knowl- 
edge, whether of mind or matter, can be nothing more than a 
knowledge of the relative manifestations of an existence, which, 
in itself, it is our highest wisdom to recognize as beyond the 
reach of philosophy ; — in the language of St. Austin — " cog- 
noscendb ignorari^ et ignorando cognoscir 

The Conditioned is the mean between two extremes — two 
inconditionates, exclusive of each other, neither of which can he 
conceived as possible, but of which, on the principles of Contra- 
diction and Excluded Middle, one must be admitted as necessary. 
On this opinion, therefore, our faculties are shown to be weak, 
but not deceitful. The mind is not represented as conceiving 
two propositions subversive of each other, as equally possible ; 
but only, as unable to understand as possible either of two ex- 
tremes ; one of which, however, on the ground of their mutual 
repugnance, it is compelled to recognize as true. We are thus 
taught the salutary lesson, that the capacity of thought is not to 
be constituted into the measure of existence ; and are warned 
from recognizing the domain of our knowledge as necessarily co- 
extensive with the horizon of our faith. And by a wonderful 
revelation, we are thus, in the very consciousness of our inabil- 
ity to conceive aught above the relative and finite, inspired with 
a belief in the existence of something unconditioned beyond the 
sphere of all comprehensible reality.^] — Discussions* 

=^ [True, therefore, are the declarations of a pious philosophy: "A God 
understood would be no God at all ; " — "To think that God is, as we can 
think him to be, is blasphemy." — The Divinity, in a certain sense, is re- 
vealed; in a certain sense, is concealed: He is at once known and un- 
known. But the last and highest consecration of all true religion must be 
an altar — 'Ayv^crrcj 9ec5 — "To the unknown and unknowable God/' In 
this consummation, nature and revelation, paganism and Christianity, are 
at one : and from either source the testimonies are so numerous that I must 
/*jfrain from quoting any.] 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 527 

[In his criticism of Cousin's philosophy, Hamilton argues 
further :] [Our author maintains that the idea of the infinite, or 
absolute, and the idea of the finite or relative, are equally real, 
because the notion of the one necessarily suggests the notion of 
the other. 

Correlatives certainly suggest each other, but correlatives 
iiiay, or may not, be equally real and positive. In thought, 
contradictories necessarily imply each other, for the knowledge 
of contradictories is one. But the reality of one contradictory, 
so far from guaranteeing the reality of the other, is nothing 
else than its negation. Thus every positive notion (the concept 
of a thing by what it is) suggests a negative notion (the con- 
cept of a thing by what it is not) ; and the highest positive 
notion, the notion of the conceivable, is not without its corre- 
sponding negative • in the notion of the inconceivable. But 
though these mutually suggest each other, the positive alone is 
real; the negative is only an abstraction of the other, and 
in the highest generality, even an abstraction of thought itself.] 

[The philosophy of the Conditioned, even from the preceding 
outline, is, it will be seen, the express converse of the philoso- 
phy of the Absolute — at least, as this system has been latterly 
evolved in Germany. For this asserts to man a knowledge of 
the Unconditioned — of the Absolute and Infinite ; while that 
denies to him a knowledge of either, and maintains, all which 
we immediately know, or can know, to be only the Conditioned, 
the Relative, the Ph^enomenal, the Finite. The one, supposing 
knowledge to be only of existence in itself, and existence in it- 
self to be apprehended, and even understood, proclaims — 
"Understand that you may believe," ("Intellige ut*credas") ; 
the other, supposing that existence, in itself, is unknown, that 
apprehension is only of phasnomena, and that these are received 
only upon trust, as incomprehensibly revealed facts, proclaims 
with the Prophet — " Believe that ye may understand,*' 
" Crede ut intelligas."] —^ Discussions. 

This is the only orthodox inference, — I shall only add in con- 
clusion, that, as this is the one 'true, it is the only orthodox, 
inference. We must believe in the infinity of God ; but the 



528 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIOJSED. 

infinite God cannot by us, in the present limitation of our facul- 
ties, be comprehended or conceived. A Deity understood, 
would be no Deity at all ; and it is blasphemy to say that God 
only is as we are able to think Him to be. We know God 
according to the finitude of our faculties ; but we believe much 
that we are incompetent properly to know. The Infinite, the 
infinite God, is what, to use the words of Pascal, is infinitely 
inconceivable. Faith, — Belief, — is the organ by which we 
apprehend what is beyond our knowledge. In this all Divines 
and Philosophers, worthy of the name, are found to coincide ; 
and the few who assert to man a knowledge of the infinite, do 
this on the daring, the extravagant, the paradoxical supposition, 
either that Human Reason is identical with the Divine, or that 
Man and the Absolute are one. 

The assertion has, however, sometimes been hazarded, through 
a mere mistake of the object of knowledge or conception : as if 
that could be an object of knowledge, which was not known ; as 
if that could be an object of conception, which was not conceived. 

It has been held, that the Infinite is known or conceived, 
though only a part of it (and every part, be it observed, is ivso 
facto finite) can be apprehended ; and Aristotle's definition of 
the infinite has been adopted by those who disregard his declara- 
tion, that the infinite, qua infinite, is beyond the reach of human 
understanding. To say that the infinite can he thought^ hut only 
inadequately thought^ is a contradiction in adjecto ; it is the 
same as* saying, that the infinite can be known, but only known 
as finite. 

The Scriptures ' explicitly declare that the infinite is for us 
now incognizable ; — they declare that the finite, and the finite 
alone, is within our reach. It is said (to cite one text out of 
many), that " now I know in part " (^. e. the finite) ; " but the7i " 
(^. e. in the life to come) " shall I know even as I am known " 
(^. e, without limitation) ."^ 



^ [In a private letter, Hamilton replied as follows to some objections 
which Mr. H. Calderwood had made to his doctrine of " The Infinite."] 
[The Infinite which I contemplate is considered only as in thought; the 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 529 

Infinite beyond thought being, it may be, an object of belief, but not of 
knowledge. This consideration obviates many of your objections. 

The sphere of our belief is much more extensive than the sphere of our 
knowledge ; and, therefore, when I deny that the Infinite can by us be 
known, I am far from denying that by us it is, must, and ought to be, be- 
lieved. This I have indeed anxiously evinced, botli by reasoning and 
authority. When, therefore, you maintain, that in denying to man any 
positive cognizance of the Infinite, I virtually extenuate his belief in the in- 
finitude of Deity, I must hold you to be wholly wrong, in respect both of 
my opinion, and of the theological dogma itself. 

Assuredly, I maintain that an infinite God cannot be by us (positively) 
comprehended. But the Scriptures, and all theologians worthy of the name, 
assert tlie same. Some indeed of the latter, and among them some of the 
most illustrious Fathers, go the length of asserting, that ^' an understood 
God is no God at all," and that, " if we maintain God to be as we think he 
is, we blaspheme." Hence the assertion of Augustine : " Deum potius ig- 
norantia quam scientia attingi." 

There is a fundamental diff'erence between ITie Infinite (to "Y^v kol Hav), 
and a relation to which we may apply the term infinite. Thus, Time and 
Space must be excluded from the supposed notion of The Infinite ; for The 
Infinite, if positively thought it could be, must be thought as under neither 
Space nor Time. 

You maintain (passim) that thought, conception, knowledge, is and must 
be finite, whilst the object of thought, etc., may be infinite. This appears to 
me to be erroneous, and even contradictory. An existence can only be an 
object of thought, conception, knowledge, inasmuch as it is an object 
thought, conceived, known ; as such only does it form a constituent of the 
circle of thought, conception, knowledge. A thing may be partly known, 
conceived, thought, — partly unknown, etc. But that part of it only which 
is thought, can be an object of thought, etc. ; whereas the part of it not 
thought, etc., is, as far as thought, etc., is concerned, only tantamount to 
zero. The infinite, therefore, in this point of view, can be no object of 
thought, etc. ; for nothing can be more self-repugnant than the assertion, 
that we know the infinite through a finite notion, or have a finite knowledge 
of an infinite object of knowledge. 

But you assert (passim) that we have a knowledge, a notion, of the in- 
finite ; at the same time, asserting (passim) that this knowledge or notion is 
*' inadequate," — ^'partial," — "imperfect," — "limited," — "not in all its 
extent," — " incomplete," — "only to some extent," — " in a certain sense," 
— "indistinct," etc., etc. 

Now, in the first place, this assertion is in contradiction of what you also 
maintain, that " the infinite is one and indivisible ; " that is, that having no 
pans, it cannot be partially known. But, in the second place, this also sub- 
verts the possibility of conceiving, of knowing, the Infinite ; for as partial, 
45 



530 THE PHILOSOPHY OF THE CONDITIONED. 

inadequate, not in all its extent, etc., our conception includes some part only 
of the object supposed infinite, and does not include the rest. Our knowK 
edge is, therefore, by your own account, limited and finite ; consequently, 
you implicitly admit that we have no knowledge, at least no positive knowl- 
edge, of the infinite. 

Again, as stated, you describe the infinite to be "one and indivisible." 
But to conceive as inseparable into parts an entity which, not excluding, 
'm fact includes, the worlds of mind and matter, is for the human intellect 
utterly improbable. And does not the infinite contain the finite? If it 
does, then it contains what has parts, and is divisible ; if it does not, then 
it is exclusive : the finite is out of the infinite : and the infinite is condi- 
tioned, limited, restricted, — finite. 

You controvert my assertion, that, to conceive a thing in relation is, ipso 
facto, to conceive it as finite ; and you maintain that the relative is not 
incompatible with infinity, unless it be also restrictive. But restrictive, I 
hold the relative always to be, and therefore, incompatible with The Infinite 
in the more proper signification of the term, though infinity, in a looser sig- 
nification, may be applied ^o it. My reasons for this are the following : 
A relation is always a particular point of view ; consequently, the things 
thought as relative and correlative are always thought restrictively, in so 
far as the thought of the one discriminates and excludes the other, and like- 
wise all things not conceived in the same special or relative point of view. 
Thus, if we think of Socrates and Xanthippe under the matrimonial rela- 
tion, not only do the thoughts of Socrates and Xanthippe exclude each 
other as separate existences, and, pro tanto, therefore are restrictive ; but 
thinking of Socrates as husband, this excludes our conception of him as 
citizen, etc., etc. Or, to take an example from higher relatives : what is 
thought, as the object, excludes what is viewed as the subject, of thought ; and 
hence the necessity which compelled Schelling and other absolutists to place 
27ie Absolute in the indifference of subject and object, of knowledge and 
existence. Again : we conceive God in the relation of Creator, and in so 
far as we merely conceive Him as Creator, we do not conceive him as un- 
conditioned, as infinite ; for there are many other relations of the Deity 
under which we may conceive Him, but which are not included in the 
relation of Creator. In so far, therefore, as we conceive God only in this 
relation, our conception of Him is manifestly restrictive. Further, the 
created universe is, and you assert it to be, finite. The creation is, therefore, 
an act, of however great, of finite power ; and the Creator is thus thought 
only in a finite capacity. God, in his own nature, is infinite ; but we do 
not positively think Him as infinite, in thinking Him under the relation of 
the Creator of a finite creation. Finally, let us suppose the created uni- . 
verse (which you do not) to be infinite ; in that case, we should be reduced 
to the dilemma of asserting two infinities, which is contradictory, or of 
asserting the supernal absurdity, that God the Creator is finite, and the 
universe created ^^ Him is infinite.] — Appendix, 



CHAPTER XXVIIl. 

Tim REGULATIVE FACULTY. — LAW OF THE CONDITIOJNED IN 
ITS APPLICATION TO THE DOCTRINE OF CAUSALITY. 

1 HAVE been desirous to explain the principle of the Condi- 
tioned, as out of it we* are able not only to explain the hallucina- 
tion of the Absolute, but to solve some of the most momentous, 
and hitherto most puzzling, problems of mind. In particular, 
this principle affords us, I think, a solution of the two great 
intellectual principles of Cause and Effect, and of Substance and 
Phaenomenon or Accident. Both are only applications of the 
principle of the Conditioned, in different relations. 

Of all questions in the history of Philosophy, that concernuig 
the nature and genealogy of the notion of Causality, is, perhaps, 
the most 'famous ; and I shall endeavor to give a comprehensive, 
though necessarily a very summary, view of the problem, and 
of the attempts which have been made at its solution. 

What is the phenomenon of Causality, — But before proceed 
ing to consider the different attempts to explain the phaenom- 
enon, it is proper to state and to determine what the phsenom- 
enon to be explained really is. Nor is this superfluous, for ive 
shall find that some philosophers, instead of accommodating their 
solutions to the problem, have accommodated the problem to 
their solutions. 

When we are aware of something which begins to be, we are, 
by the necessity of our intelligence, constrained to believe that 
it has a Cause. But what does the expression, that it has a 
cause, signify ? If we analyze our thought, we shall find that it 
simply means, that as we cannot conceive any new existence to 
commence, therefore, all tha^ is now seen to arise under a new 

*► (531) 



532 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

appearance had previously an existence under a prior form. 
[We are constrained to think that what now appears to us under 
a new form, had previously an existence under others — others 
conceivable by us or not. These others (for they are always 
plural) are called its cause; and a cause, or more properly 
causes, we cannot but suppose ; for a cause is simply every 
thing without which the effect would not result, and all such 
concurring, the effect cannot but result.] — Discussions, We 
are utterly unable to realize in thought the possibility of the 
complement of existence being either increased or diminished. 
We are unable, on the one hand, to conceive nothing becoming 
something, — or, on the other, something becoming nothing. 
When God is said to create out of nothing, we construe this to 
thought by supposing that He evolves existence out of himself ; 
we view the Creator as the cause of the universe. " Ex nihilo 
nihil, in nihilum nil posse reverti " expresses, in its purest form, 
the whole intellectual phsenomenon of causality. 

There is thus conceived an absolute tautology between the 
effect and its causes. We think the causes to contain all that 
is contained in the effect ; the effect to contain nothing which 
was not contained in the causes. Take an example. A neutral 
salt is an effect of the conjunction of an acid and alkali. Here 
we do not, and here we cannot, conceive that, in effect, any new 
existence has been added, nor can we conceive that any has 
been taken away. But another example : — Gunpowder is the 
effect of a mixture of sulphur, charcoal, and nitre, and these 
three substances are again the effect, — result, of simpler con- 
stituents, and these constituents again of simpler elements, either 
known or conceived to exist. Now, in all this series of com- 
positions, we cannot conceive that aught begins to exist. The 
gunpowder, the last compound, we are compelled to think, con- 
tains precisely the same quantum of existence that its ultimate 
elements contained, prior to their combination. Well ; we ex- 
plode the powder. Can we conceive that existence has been 
diminished by the annihilation of a single element previously in 
being, or increased by the addition of a single element which was 
not heretofore in nature ? " Omnia mutantur ; nihil interit/' — 



THE PRINCIPLE OE CAUSALITY. 533 

is what we think, what we must think. This, then, is the mental 
phaenomenon of causality, — that we necessarily deny in thought 
that the object which appears to begin to be, really so begins ; 
and that we necessarily identify its present with its past exist- 
ence. Here it is not requisite that we should know under what 
form, under what combinations, this existence was previously 
realized ; in other words, it is not requisite that we should know 
what are the particular causes of the particular effect. The dis- 
covery of the connection of determinate causes and determinate 
effects is merely contingent and individual, — merely the datum 
of experience; but the principle that every event should have 
itb causes, is necessary and universal, and is imposed on us as a 
condition of our human intelligence itself. This necessity of so 
thinking is the only phcenomenon to he explained. [The question 
of philosophy is not concerning the cause, but concerning a 
cause.] 

Nor are philosophers, in general, really at variance in their 
statement of the problem. However divergent in their mode 
of explanation, they are at one in regard to the matter to be 
explained. But there is one exception. Dr. Brown has given 
a vpiy different account of the phsenomenon in question. To 
a statement of it, I solicit your attention ; for as his theory is 
solely accommodated to his view of the phsenomenon, so his the- 
ory is refuted by showing that his view of the phaenomenon is 
erroneous. 

Now, in explaining to you the doctrine of Dr. Brown, 1 am 
happy to avail myself of the assistance of [Prof. John Wilson] 
Dr. Brown^s successor, whose metaphysical acuteness was not 
the least remarkable of his many brilliant qualities. 

Wilson's confutation of Brown's doctrine, — " The distinct 
and full purport of Dr. Brown's doctrine, it will be observed, is 
this, — that when we apply in this way the words cause and 
power, we attach no other meaning to the terms than what he 
has explained. By the word cause, we mean no more than that, 
in this instance, the spark falling is the event immediately prior 
to the explosion : including the belief that in all cases hitherto, 
when a spark has fallen on gunpowder (of course, supposing 

45* 



534 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

other circumstances the same), the gunpowder has kindled ; and 
that whenever a spark shall again so fall, the grains will again 
take fire. The present immediate priority, and the past and 
future invariable sequence of the one event upon the other, are 
all the ideas that the mind can have in view in speaking of 
the event in that instance as a cause ; and in speaking of the 
power in the spark to produce this effect, we mean merely to 
express the invariableness with which this has happened and 
will happen. 

" This is the doctrine ; and the author submits it to this test : — 
' Let any one,' he says, ' ask himself what it is which he means 
by the term " power," ' and without contenting himself with a 
few phrases that signify nothing, reflect before he give his 
answer, — and he will find that he means nothing more than 
in that, all similar circumstances, the explosion of gunpowder 
will be the immediate and uniform consequence of the applica- 
tion of a spark. 

" This test, indeed, is the only one to which the question can 
be brought. For the question does not regard causes them- 
selves, but solely the ideas of cause, in the human mind. If, 
therefore, every one to whom this analysis of the idea, that is in 
his mind when he speaks of a cause, is proposed, finds, on com- 
paring it with what passed in his mind, that this is a complete 
and full account of his conception, there is nothing more to be 
said, and the point is made good. By that sole possible test the 
analysis is, in such a case, established. If, on the contrary, 
when this analysis is proposed, as containing all the ideas which 
we annex to the words cause and power, the minds of most men 
cannot satisfy themselves, that it is complete, but are still pos- 
sessed with a strong suspicion that there is something more 
which is not here accounted for, — then the analysis is not yet 
established, and it becomes necessary to inquire by additional 
examination of the subject, what that more may be. 

" Let us then apply the test by which Dr. Brown proposes 
that the truth of his views shall be tried. Let us ask ourselves 
what we mean when we say, that the spark has power to kindle 
the gunpowder, — that the powder is susceptible of being kin- 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 535 

died by the spark. Do we mean only that whenever they come 
together this will happen ? Do we merely predict this simple 
and certain futurity ? 

" We do not fear to say, that when we speak of a power in 
one substance to produce a change in another, and of a suscep- 
tibility of such change in that other, we express more than our 
belief that the change has taken and will take place. There is 
more in our mind than a conviction of the past and a foresight 
of the future. There is, besides this, the conception included 
of a fixed constitution of their nature, which determines the 
event, — a constitution, which, while it lasts, makes he event a 
necessary consequence of the situation in which the objects are 
placed. We should say then, that there are included in these 
terms, 'power,' and * susceptibility of change,' two ideas which 
are not expressed in Dr, Brown's ancdysis^ — one of ne^essity^ 
and the other of a constitution of things, in which that necessity 
is established. That these two ideas are not expressed in the 
terms of Dr. Brown's analysis, is seen by quoting again his 
words : — ' He will find that he means nothing more than that, 
in all similar circumstances, the explosion of gunpowder will be 
the immediate and uniform consequence of the application of a 
spark.' 

" It is certain, from the whole tenor of his work, that Dr. 
Brown has designed to exclude the idea of necessity from his 
analysis." 

Now this admirably expresses what I have always felt is the 
grand and fundamental defect in Dr. Brown's theory, — a de- 
fect which renders that theory ah initio worthless. Brown pro- 
fesses to explain the phaenomenon of causality, but, previously 
to explanation, he evacuates the phaenomenon of all that deside- 
rates explanation. What remains in the phaenomenon, after the 
quality of necessity is thrown, or rather silently allowed to drop 
out, is only accidental, — only a consequence of the essential 
circumstance. 

Classification of opinions respecting the Principle of Cans- 
ality, — The opinions in regard to the nature and origin of th^ 
principle of Causality, in so far as that principle is viewed as a 



586 THE PEINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

subjective phsenomenon, — as a judgment of the human mind, 
— fall into two great categories. The first category (A) com- 
prehends those theories which consider this principle as Empir- 
ical, or a posteriori^ that is, as derived from experience ; the 
other (B) comprehends those which view it as Pure, or a priori^ 
that is, as a condition of intelligence itself These two primary 
genera are, however, severally subdivided into various subordi- 
nate classes. 

The former category (A), under which this principle is re- 
garded as the residt of experience, contains two classes, inasmuch 
as the causal judgment may be supposed founded either (a) on 
an Original, or (b) on a Derivative, cognition. Each of these 
again is divided into two, according as the principle is supposed 
to have an objective, or a subjective, origin. In the former case, 
that is, where the cognition is supposed to be original and unde- 
rived, it is Objective, or rather Objectivo-Objective, when held 
to consist in an immediate perception of the power or efficacy of 
causes in the external and internal worlds (1) ; and Subjective, 
or rather Objectivo- Subjective, when viewed as given in a self 
consciousness alone of the power or efficacy of our own volitions 
(2). In the latter case, that is, where the cognition is supposed 
to be derivative, if. objective, it is viewed as a product of Indue- 
tion and Generalization (3) ; if subjective, of Association and 
Custom (4). 

In like manner, the latter category (B), under which the 
causal principle is considered not as a result, but as a condition, 
of experience, is variously divided and subdivided. In the first 
place, the opinions under this category fall into two classes, inas- 
much as some regard the causal judgment (c) as an Ultimate or 
Primary law of mind, while others regard it (d) as a Second- 
ary or Derived. Those who hold the former doctrine, in view- 
ing it as a simple original principle, hold likewise that it is a 
positive act, — an affirmative datum of intelligence. This class 
is finally subdivided into two opinions. For some hold that 
the causal judgment, as necessary, is given in what they call 
" the principle of Causality, ^^ that is, the principle which declares 
that every thing which begins to be, must have its cause (5) ; 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 



537 



• 


A 


TABULAR VIEW 


• 






OF THE 






THEOEIES 


IN 


EEGARD TO THE 
CAUSALITY. 


PEINCIPLE 


OP 







y a. 
Original 
or 


Objectivo-objective and Objectivo- 
subjective, — Perception of Causal 
Efficiency, external and internal. 




A Posteriori. 


Primitive. 


2. 

Objectivo-subjective, — Perception 
of Causal Efficiency, internal. 






b. 


Obj ective, — Induction, Generaliza- ' 






Derivative 


tion. 


Judgment 
of 




or > 
\ Secondary. 


4. 

Subj ective, — Association, Custom, 
Habit. 


Causality \ 






^5. 


as 


B. 

< A Priori. 


f c. 
Original 

or 
Primitive. 


Necessary: A Special Principle ot 
Intelligence. 

Contingent : Expectation of the Con- 
, stancy of Nature. 




d. 
Derivative 


"7. 

From the Law of Contradiction {i. e. 
Non-Contradiction) .* 






or 

^ Secondary. 


8. 

From the Law of the Conditioned. 









538 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

whilst at least one philosopher, without explicitly denying that 
the causal judgment is necessary, would identify it with the 
principle of our " Expectation of the Constancy of nature^' (6). 

Those who hold that it can be analyzed into a higher princi- 
ple, also hold that it is not of a positive, but of a negative, char- 
acter. These, however, are divided into two classes. By 
some it has been maintained, that the principle of Causality can 
he resolved into the principle of Contradiction (7), which, as I 
formerly stated to you, ought in propriety to be called the prin- 
ciple of Non- Contradiction. On the other hand, it may be 
(though it never has been) argued, that the judgment of Caus- 
ality can be analyzed into what I ccdled the principle of the 
Conditioned, — the principle of relativity (8). To one or the 
other of these eight heads, all the doctrines that have been ac- 
tually maintained in regard to the origin of the principle in 
question, may be referred; and the classification is the better 
worthy of your attention, as in no work will you find any 
attempt at even an enumeration of the various theories, actual 
and possible, on this subject. 

An adequate discussion of these several heads, and a special 
consideration of the differences of the individual opinions which 
they comprehend, would far exceed our limits. I shall, there- 
fore, confine myself to a few observations on the value of these 
eight doctrines in general, without descending to the particular 
modifications under which they have been maintained by partic- 
ular philosophers. 

1 . External Perception of causal efficiency, — Of these, the 
first, — that which asserts that we have a perception of the 
causal agency, as we have a perception of the existence of ex- 
ternal objects, — this opinion has been always held in combina- 
tion with the second, — that which maintains that we are self- 
conscious of efiiciency ; though the second has been frequently 
held by philosophers who have abandoned the first as untena- 
ble. Considering them together, that is, as forming the opinion 
that we directly and immediately apprehend the efiiciency of 
causes both external and internal, — this opinion is refuted by 
two objections. 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 539 

The first is, that we have no such apprehension, — no such 
knowledge ; the second, that if we had, this being merely em- 
pirical, — merely conversant with individual instances, could 
never account for the quality of necessity and universality 
which accompanies the judgment of causality. In regard to 
the first of these objections, it is now universally admitted^ that 
we have no perception of the connection of cause and effect in 
the external world. For example ; when one billiard-ball is seen 
to strike another, we perceive only that the impulse of the one 
is followed by the motion of the other, but have no perception of 
any force or efficiency in the first, by which it is connected with 
the second, in the relation of causality. Hume was the philoso- 
pher who decided the opinion of the world on this point. He 
was not, however, the first who stated the fact, or even the 
reasoner who stated it most clearly. He, however, believed 
himself, or would induce us to beheve, that in this he was orig- 
inaL Speaking of this point, " I am sensible," he says, " that 
of all the paradoxes, which I have had, or shall hereafter have, 
occasion to advance, in the course of this treatise, the present 
one is the most violent, and that it is merely by dint of solid 
proof and reasoning I can ever hope it will have admission, and 
overcome the inveterate prejudices of mankind. Before we are 
reconciled to this doctrine, how often must we repeat to ourselves, 
that the simple view of any two objects or actions, however 
related, can never give us any idea of power, or of a connection 
betwixt them ; that this idea arises from the repetition of their 
union ; that the repetition neither discovers nor causes any thing 
in the objects, but has an influence only on the mind, by that 
customary transition it produces ; that this customary transition 
is, therefore, the same with the power and necessity ; which are 
consequently . qualities of perceptions, not of objects, and are 
internally felt by the soul, and not perceived externally in 
bodies?" 

I could adduce to you a whole army of philosophers previous 
to Hume, who had announced and illustrated the fact. As far 
as I have been able to trace it, this doctrine was first promul- 
gated towards the commencement of the twelfth century, at 



540 THE PRINCIPLE OF CALj^ALHT. 

Bagdad, by Algazel, a pious Mohammedan philosopher, who 
not undeservedly obtained the title of Imaum of the World. 
Algazel did not deny the reality of causation, but he maintained 
that God was the only efficient cause in nature ; and that second 
causes were not properly causes, but only occasions, of the effect. 
That we have no perception of any real agency of one body on 
another, is a truth which has not more clearly been stated or 
illustrated by any subsequent philosopher than by him who first 
proclaimed it. The doctrine of Algazel was adopted by that 
great sect among the Mussulman doctors, who were styled those 
speaking in the law^ that is, the law of Mohammed. From the 
Eastern Schools, the opinion passed to those of the West ; and 
we find it a problem which divided the Scholastic philosophers, 
whether God were the only efficient, or whether causation could 
be attributed to created existences. After the Revival of Let- 
ters, the opinion of Algazel was maintained by many individual 
thinkers, though it no longer retained the same prominence in 
the Schools. It was held, for example, by Malebranche, and his 
illustration from the collision of two billiard-balls is likewise that 
of Hume, who probably borrowed from Malebranche both the 
opinion and the example. 

2. Internal perception of causal efficiency, — But there are 
many philosophers who surrender the external perception, and 
maintain our internal consciousness, of causation or power. This 
opinion was, in one chapter of his Essay ^ advanced by Locke, 
and, at a very recent date, it has been amplified and enforced 
with distinguished ability by the late M. Maine de Biran, — 
one of the acutest metaphysicians of France. On this doctrine, 
the notion of cause is not given to us by the observations of 
external phsenomena, which, as considered only by the senses, 
manifest no causal efficiency, and appear to us only as succes- 
sive ; it is given to us within, in reflection, in the consciousness 
of our operations and of the power which exerts them, — - namely, 
the will. I make an effort to move my arm, and I move it. 
When we analyze attentively the phasnomenon of effort, which 
M. de Biran considers as the type of the phaenomena of vohtion, 
the following are the results : — 1°, The consciousness of an act 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 541 

of will ; 2°, The consciousness of a motion produced ; 3^, A 
relation of the motion to the volition. And what is this relation ? 
Not a simple relation of succession. The will is not for us a 
pure act without efficiency, — it is a productive energy ; so that, 
in a volition there is given to us the notion of cause ; and this 
notion we subsequently transport, — project out from our in- 
ternal activities, into the changes of the external world. 

This doctrine shown to he untenable, — This reasoning, in so 
far as regards the mere empirical fact of our consciousness of 
causality, in the relation of our will as moving, and of our limbs 
as moved, is refuted by the consideration, that between the 
overt fact of corporeal movement of which we are cognizant, 
and the internal act of mental determination of which we are 
also cognizant, there intervenes a numerous series of intermedi- 
ate agencies of which we have no knowledge ; and, consequently, 
that we can have no consciousness of any causal connection 
between the extreme links of this chain, — the volition to move 
and the limb moving, as this hypothesis asserts. No one is 
immediately conscious, for example, of moving his arm through 
his volition. Previously to this ultimate movement, muscles, 
nerves, a multitude of solid and fluid parts, must be set in motion 
by the will ; but of this motion we know, from consciousness, 
absolutely nothing. A person struck with paralysis is conscious 
of no inability in his limb to fulfil the determinations of his will ; 
and it is only after having willed, and finding that his limbs do 
not obey his volition, that he learns by his experience, that the 
external movement does not follow the internal act. But as the 
paralytic learns after the volition, that his limbs do not obey his 
mind ; so it is only after volition that the man in health learns, 
that his limbs do obey the mandates of his will.^ 

* [Elsewhere, in the Dissertations supplementary to Reid, this argument is 
stated by Hamilton as follows .] 

" Volition to move a limb, and the actual moving of it, are the first 
and last vx a series of more than two successive events; and cannot, 
therefore, stand to each other, immediately, in the relation of cause and 
effect. They may, however, stand to each other in the relation of cause 
and eflfect, mediately. But, then, if they can be known in consciousne?s 
46 



542 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

But, independently of all this, the second objection above 
mentioned i^ fatal to the theory which would found the judgment 

as thus mediately related, it is a necessary condition of such knowledge, 
that the intervening series of causes and elfects, through which the final 
movenent of the limb is supposed to be mediately dependent on the pri- 
mary volition to move, should be known to consciousness immediately 
imder that relation. But this intermediate, this connecting series is, con- 
fessedly, unknown to consciousness at all, far less as a series of causes and 
effects. It follows, therefore, a fortiori, that the dependency of the last 
on the first of these events, as of an effect upon its cause, must be to con- 
sciousness unknown. In other words, — having no consciousness that the 
volition to move is the efficacious force (power) by which even the event 
immediately consequent on it (say the transmission of the nervous influence 
from brain to muscle) is produced, such event being in fact itself to con- 
sciousness occult; multo minus can we have a consciousness of that volition 
being the efficacious force by which the ultimate movement of the limb is 
mediately determined." 

[In the same Dissertation, Hamilton gives the following analysis of the 
action of the will in determining motion.] 

" We have here to distinguish three things : — 

" 1°. The still immanent or purely mental act of will : what, for distinc- 
tion's sake, I would call the hyperorganic volition to move ; — the actio elicita 
of the Schools. Of this volition we are conscious, even though it do not go 
out into overt action. 

" 2°. If this volition become transeunt, be carried into effect, it passes 
mto the mental effort or nisus to move. This I would call the enorganic 
volition, or, by an extension of the' Scholastic language, the actio imperans. 
Of this we are immediately conscious. For we are conscious of it, though, hy a 
narcosis or stupor of the sensitive nerves, we lose all feeling of the movement of 
the limb ; — though by a paralysis of the motive nerves, no movement in the 
limb follows the mental effort to move; — though by an abnormal stimulus 
of the muscular fibres, a contraction in them is caused even in opposition to 
our will. 

"3°. Determined by the enorg*anic volition, the cerebral influence is 
transmitted by the motive nerves; the muscles contract, or endeavor to 
contract, so that the limb moves or endeavors to move. This motion or 
effort to move I would call the organic movement, the organic nisus ; by a 
limitation of the scholastic term, it might be denominated the actio im- 
perata." 

[It is in this third element — the organic nisus and the organic movement — 
that Sir AVilliara seeks for evidence of the efficiency of the will, and rightly 
declares that it cannot be found. We agree with him. " Between the ex- 
treme links of this chain, — that is, between the volition to move, and the 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 543 

of causality on any empirical cognition, whether of the pliaiiioin- 
ena of mind or of the phsenomena of matter. Admitting that 
causation were cognizable, and that perception and self-con- 
sciousness were competent to its apprehension, still as these 
faculties could only take note of individual causations, we should 
be wholly unable, out of such empirical acts, to evolve the 
quality of necessity and universality, by which this notion is 

arm moving/' he says, "there intervenes a scries of intermediate agencieSj 
of which we are wholly unaware." How mind operates upon matter, — 
even upon the matter of our own bodies, with which we are so intimately 
connected, — we do not know. How the action of the will is communicated 
to the muscles, — whether by one, two, or three intermediate steps, — we do 
not know. 

But we find proof of the efficiency of volition in the second of our author's 
three elements, where his language, which we have italicized, is so explicit 
that it seems strange the conclusion* could have escaped him. By the 
" enorganic volition" we understand neither " the still immanent or purely 
mental act," nor yet the organic nisus or movement which is wholly exterior 
to the mind, but the transeunt act from one to the other, the command^ 
whether it is obe3^ed or not; — and of this enorganic movement, "we are 
immediately conscious," though the limb may be paralyzed. It is action , 
of which we are here conscious ; otherwise, the " purely mental act of will " 
could not have " become transeunt." We are conscious of an effort in this 
act — conscious o^ putting forth power — conscious oi attempting to move the 
muscles, whether they obey or not. The laborer is not more clearly con- 
scious that he has tried to raise the rock. It is certain, also, that power in 
action is necessarily causative ; it forms our only idea of causation. It must 
produce an effect, though perhaps not the whole effect which we desire. 
The pressure is not lost, though the rock does not move. We have, then, 
the direct evidence of consciousness, — of that faculty not one of whose dic- 
tates can be impeached, — that the will is a true cause — an efficient cause, 
not a mere antecedent — alijnited cause, indeed, but supreme within its proper 
domain — not always s^//ficient for the end proposed, but always e/'ficient, 
or expending force, which is real, though often inadequate. We have here 
all the marks or tests, by which efficient causation is distinguished from 
mere antecedence. In the case of material phasnomena, the result can be 
ascertained only by experience ; we learn only by trial, that one substance is 
soluble, and another not, — that iron expands, and clay contracts, in the 
fire. But in the case of mental exertion, the result to be accomplished is 
^reconsidered, or meditated, and is therefore known a priori, or before expe- 
rience ; the volition succeeds, which is a true effort, or power in action ; 
and this is necessarily followed by an effect, partial or complete.] — Am. Ed 



544 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITi. 

distinguished. Admitting that we had really observed tht; 
agency of any number of causes, still this would not explain to 
us, how we . are unable to think a manifestation of existence 
without thinking it as an effect. Our internal experience, 
especially in the relation of our volitions to their effects, may be 
useful in giving us a clearer notion of causality ; but it is alto- 
gether incompetent to account for what in it there is of the 
quality of necessity. So much for the two theories at the head 
of the Table. 

As the first and second opinions have been usually associated, 
so also have the third and fourth ; — that is, the doctrine that our 
notion of causality is the offspring of the objective principle of 
Induction or Generalization, and the doctrine that it is the off- 
spring of the subjective principle of Association or Custom. 

3. Judgment of Causality obtained from Induction and Gen- 
eralization, — In regard to the former, — the third, it is plain 
that the observation, that certain phsenomena are found to suc- 
ceed certain other phaenomena, and the generalization conse- 
quent thereon, that these are reciprocally causes and effects, 
could never of itself have engendered, not only the strong, but 
the irresistible belief, that every event must have its cause. 
Each of these observations is contingent; and any number of 
observed contingencies will never impose upon us the feeling of 
necessity, — of our inability to think the opposite. Nay more, 
this theory evolves the absolute notion of causality out of the 
observation of a certain number of uniform consecutions among 
phgenoiiiena ; [that is, it would collect that all must he, because 
some are,'] But we find no difficulty whatever in conceiving 
the reverse of all or any of the consecutions we have observed ; 
and yet the general notion of causality, which, ex hypothesis is 
their result, we cannot possibly think as possibly unreal. We 
have always seen a stone fall to the ground, when thrown into 
the air ; but we find no difficulty in representing to ourselves the 
possibility of one or all stones gravitating from the earth ; only 
we cannot conceive the possibility of this, or any other event, 
happening without a cause. 

4. From Association and Custom, — Nor does the latter,— 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 54N 

the fourth theory, — that of Custom or AsRoeiation, — afford a 
better solution. The necessity of so thinking cannot be derived 
from a custom of so thinking. Allow the force of custom to be 
great as may be, still it is always limited to the customary ; and 
the customary has nothing whatever in it of the necessary. But 
we have here to account not for a strong, hut for an absolutely 
irresistible belief. On this theory, also, the causal judgment, 
when association is recent, should be weak, and sliould only 
gradually acquire its full force in proportion as custom becomes 
inveterate. But do we find that the causal judgment is weaker 
in the young, stronger in the old ? There is no difference. In 
either case, there is no less and no more ; the necessity in both 
is absolute. Mr. Hume patronized the opinion, that the notion 
of causality is the offspring of experience engendered upon cus* 
tom. But those have a sorry insight into the philosophy of that 
great thinker, who suppose that this was a dogmatic theory of his 
own. On the contrary, in his hands, it was a mere reduction of 
dogmatism to absurdity, by showing the inconsistency of its 
results. To the Lockian sensualism, Hume proposed the prob- 
lem, — to account for the phceiiomenoii of necessity in our notion 
of the causal nexus. That philosophy afforded no other princi- 
ple through which even the attempt at a solution could be 
made ; — and the principle of custom, Hume shows, could not 
furnish a real necessity. The alternative was plain. Either 
the doctrine of sensualism is false, or our nature is a delusion. 
Shallow thinkers adopted the latter alternative, and vf ere lost ; 
profound thinkers, on the contrary, were determined to lay a 
deeper foundation of philosophy than that of the superficial 
edifice of Locke ; and thus it is that Hume became the cause, 
or the occasion, of all that is of principal value in our more 
recent metaphysics. Hume is the parent of the philosophy of 
Kant, and, through Kant, of the whole philosophy of Germany ; 
he is the parent of the philosophy of Reid and Stewart in Scot- 
land, and of all that is of preeminent note in the metaphysics of 
France and Italy. — But to return. 

5. Causality a special principle of intelligence. — I now come 
to the second category (B), and to the first of the four particu- 

46^ 



546 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 

lar heads which it likewise contains, — the opinion, namely, that 
the judgment, that every thing that begins to be must have a 
cause, is a simple primaiy datum, a positive revelation of intel- 
ligence. To this head are to be referred the theories on causal- 
ity of Descartes, Leibnitz, Reid, Stewart, Kant, Fichte, Cousin, 
and the majority of recent philosophers. This is the fifth 
theory in order. 

Now it is manifest, that, against the assumption of a special 
principle, which this doctrine makes, there exists a primary pre- 
sumption of philosophy. This is the law of Parcimony, which 
forbids, without necessity, the multiplication of entities, powers, 
principles, or causes ; above all, the postulation of an unknown 
foTce^ where a known impotence can account for the effect. 
We are, therefore, entitled to apply Occam's razor* to this 
theory of causality, unless it be proved impossible to explain 
the causal judgment at a cheaper rate, by deriving it from a 
higher, and that a negative, origin. On a doctrine like the pres- 
ent is thrown the onus of vindicating its necessity, by showing 
that, unless a special and positive principle be assumed, there 
exists no competent mode to save the phsenomena. It can only, 
therefore, be admitted provisorily ; and it falls of course, if the 
phsenomenon it would explain can be explained on less onerous 
conditions. Leaving, therefore, the theory to stand or fall 
according as the two remaining opinions are or are not found 
insufficient, I proceed to the consideration of these. 

6. Expectation of the constancy of nature, — Dr. Brown has 
promulgated a doctrine of Causality, which may be numbered 
as the sixth ; though perhaps it is hardly deserving of distinct 
enumeration. He actually identifies the causal judgment, 
which to us is necessary^ with the principle by which we are 

=^ [The dictum, entia non multiplicanda sunt prceter necessitatem, first ex- 
plicitly applied by Occam as a summary means of refuting arbitrary and 
unnecessary hypotheses, has been called " Occam's razor." Hamilton usu- 
ally calls it the ** Law of Parcimony,^' and elsewhere says that " it has 
never perhaps been adequately enounced. It should be thus expressed: — 
Neither' more, nor more onerous, causes are to be assumed than are nec^- 
mry to account for the phcenomena."] — Am. Ed. 



THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY. 547 

merely inclined to believe in the uniformity of nature's opera- 
tions. [But apart from all subordinate objections, it is sufficient 
to saj, that the phaenomenon to be explained is the necessity of 
thinking — the absolute impossibility of not thinking — a cause ; 
whilst all that the latter principle pretends to, is, to incline us to 
expect that like antecedents will be followed by tike consequents. 
This necessity to suppose a cause for every phaenomenon. Dr. 
Brown, if he does not expressly deny, keeps cautiously out of 
view, — virtually, in fact, eliminating all that requires explana- 
tion in the problem.] — Discussions, 

7. The Judgment of Causality demonstrable by abstract rea- 
soning^ — i. e. by the Principle of Contradiction, — The sev- 
enth is a doctrine that has long been exploded. It attempts to 
establish the principle of Causality upon the principle of Con- 
tradiction. Leibnitz was too acute a metaphysician to attempt 
to prove the principle of Sufficient Reason or Causality, which 
is an ampliative or synthetic principle, by the principle of Con- 
tradiction, which is merely explicative or analytic. But his fol- 
lowers were not so wise. Wolf, Baumgarten, and many other 
Leibnitzians, paraded rTemonstrations of the law of the Suffi- 
cient Reason, on the ground of the law of Contradiction ; but 
the reasoning always proceeds on the covert assumption of the 
very point in question. The same argument is, however, at an 
earlier date, to be found in Locke, and modifications of it in 
Hobbes and Clarke. Hume, who was only aware of the argu- 
ment as in the hands of the English metaphysicians, has given 
it a refutation, which has earned the approbation of Reid ; and 
by foreign philosophers, its emptiness in the hands of the Wolf- 
ian metaphysicians has frequently been exposed. Listen to the 
pretended demonstration : — Whatever is produced without a 
cause, is produced by nothing, — in other ivords, has nothing for 
its cause. Bat nothing can no more be a cause, than it can be 
something. The same intuition that makes us aware, that noth- 
ing is not something, shows us that every thing must have a real 
cause of its existence. To this it is sufficient to say, that the 
existence of causes being the point in question, the existence of 
causes must not be taken for granted in the very reasoning 



548 THE PRINCIPLE OF CAUSALITY 

which attempts to prove their reality. In exchiding causes, we 
exchide all causes ; and consequently exclude " nothing " con- 
sidered as a cause ; it is not, therefore, allowable, contrary to 
that exclusion, to suppose " nothing " as a cause, and then from 
the absurdity of that supposition to infer the absurdity of the 
exclusion itself* If every thing must have a cause, it follows 
that, upon the exclusion of other causes, we must accept of 
nothing as a cause. But it is the very point at issue, whether 
every thing must have a cause or not ; and, therefore, it violates 
the first principles of reasoning to take this quaesitura itself as 
granted. This opinion is now universally abandoned. 

8. A result of the Law of the Conditioned, — The eighth 
and last opinion is that which regards the judgment of causality 
as derived ; and derives it not from a power, but from an impo- 
tence, of mind ; in a w^ord, from the principle of the Conditioned. 
I do not think it possible, without a detailed exposition of the 
various categories of thought, to make you fully understand the 
grounds and bearings of this opinion. In attempting to explain, 
you must, therefore, allow me to take for granted certain laws 
of thought, to which I have only been* able incidentally to al- 
lude. Those, however, which I postulate, are such as are now 
generally admitted by all philosophers who allow the mind 
itself to be a source of cognitions ; and the only one which has 
not been recognized by them, but which, as I endeavored 
briefly to prove, must likewise be taken into account, is the Law 
of the Conditioned, — the law that the conceivable has always 
two opposite extremes, and that the extremes are equally incon- 
ceivable. That the Conditioned is to be viewed, not as a power, 
but as a powerlessness of mind, is evinced by this, — that the 
two extremes are contradictories, and, as contradictories, though 
neither alternative can he conceived, — thought as possible, one or 
other must be admitted to be necessary. 

Causality deduced from this law through the three Ccctegories 
of thought. — Philosophers who allow a native principle to the 
mind at all, allow that Existence is such a principle. I shall, 
therefore, take for granted Existence as the highest category or 
condition of thought. As I noticed in the last chapter, no 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 549 

thought 18 possible except under this category. All that we 
perceive or imagine as different from us, we perceive or imag- 
ine as objectively existent. All that we are conscious of as an 
act or modification of self, we are conscious of only as subjec- 
tively existent. All thought^ therefore, implies the thought- of 
existence ; and this is the veritable exposition of the enthymeme 
of Descartes, — Gogito ergo sum. I cannot think that I think, 
without thinking that I exist, — I cannot be conscious, without 
being conscious that I am. Let existence, then, be laid down as 
a necessary form of thought. As a second category or subjec- 
tive condition of thought, I postulate that of Time. This, like- 
wise, cannot be denied me. It is the necessary condition of 
every conscious act ; thought is only realized to us as in succes- 
sion, and succession is only conceived by us under the concept 
of time. Existence and Existence in Time is thus an elemen- 
tary form of our intelligence. But we do not conceive existence 
in time absolutely or infinitely, — we conceive it only as condi- 
tioned in time ; and Existence Conditioned in Time expresses, 
at once and in relation, the three categories of thought which 
afford us in combination the principle of Causality. This re- 
quires some explanation. 

When we perceive or imagine an object, we perceive or im- 
agine it — 1°, As existent, and, 2°, As in Time ; Existence and 
Time being categories of all thought. But what is meant by 
saying, I perceive, or imagine, or, in general, think an object 
only as I perceive, or imagine, or, in general, think it to exist ? 
Simply this ; — that, as thinking it, I cannot but think it to ex- 
ist, in other words, that / cannot annihilate it in thought. I 
may think away from it, I may turn to other things ; and I can 
thus exclude it from my consciousness ; but, actually thinking 
it, I cannot think it as non-existent, for as it is thought, so it is 
thought existent. 

But a thing is thought to exist, only as it is thought to exist 
in time. Time is present, past, and future. We cannot think 
an object of thought as non-existent de presently — as actually 
an object of thought. But can we think that quantum of exist- 
ence of which an object, real or ideal, is the complement, as 



550 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 

non-existent, either in time past, or in time future ? Make th*3 
experiment. Try to think the object of your thought as non- 
existent in the moment before the present. — You cannot. 
Try it in the moment before that. — You cannot. Nor can 
you annihilate it by carrying it back to any moment, however 
distant in the past. You may conceive the parts of which this 
complement of existence is composed, as separated ; if a mate- 
rial object, you can think it as shivered to atoms, sublimated into 
aether ; but not one iota of existence can you conceive as anni- 
hilated, which subsequently you thought to exist. In like 
manner, try the future, — try to conceive the prospective anni- 
hilation of any present object, — of any atom of any present 
object. — You cannot. All this may be possible, but of it we 
cannot think the possibility. But if you can thus conceive nei- 
ther the absolute commencement nor the absolute termination 
of any thing that is once thought to exist, try, on the other 
hand, if you can conceive the opposite alternative of infinite 
non-commencement, of infinite non-termination. To this you 
are equally impotent. This is the category of the Conditioned, 
as applied to the category of Existence under the category of 
Time. 

But in this application is the principle of Causality not 
given ? Why, what is the law of Causality ? Simply this, — 
that when an object is presented phaenomenally as commencing, 
we cannot but suppose that the complement of existence, which 
it now contains, has previously been ; in other words, that all 
that we at present come to know as an effect must previously 
have existed in its causes ; though what these causes are we 
may perhaps be altogether unable even to surmise. 

The law of the Conditioned, — This theory, which has not 
hitherto been proposed, is recommended by its extreme sim- 
plicity. It postulates no new, no special, no positive principle. 
It only supposes that the mind is limited ; and the law of limita- 
tion, the law of the Conditioned, in one of its applications, 
constitutes the law of Causality. The mind is necessitated to 
think certain forms ; and, under these forms, thought is only pos- 
sible in the interval between two contradictory extremes^ both of 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 551 

which are absolutely inconceivahle, hut one of wJiich^ on the prin-- 
ciple of Excluded Middle^ is necessarily true. In reference to 
the present subject, it is only requisite to specify two of these 
forms, — Existence and Time. I showed you that thought is 
only possible under the native conceptions, — the a priori 
forms, — of existence and time ; in other woi'ds, the notions of 
existence and time are essential elements of every act of intelli- 
gence. But while the niind is thus astricted to certain necessary 
modes or forms of thought, in these forms it can only think 
under certain conditions. Thus, while obliged to think under 
the thought of time, it cannot conceive, on the one hand, the 
absolute commencement of time, and it cannot conceive, on the 
other, the infinite non-commencement of time ; in like manner, 
on the one hand, it cannot conceive an absolute minimum of 
time, nor yet, on the other, can it conceive the infinite divisi- 
bility of time. Yet these form two pairs of contradictories, that 
is, of counter-propositions, which, if our intelligence be not all a 
lie, cannot both be true, but of which, on the same authority, 
one necessarily must be true. This proves : 1°, That it is not 
competent to argue^ that what cannot he comprehended as possible 
hy us, is impossible in reality ; and 2°, That the necessities of 
thought are not always positive powers of cognition, hut often 
negative inabilities to know. The law of mind, that all that is 
positively conceivable, lies in the interval between two incon- 
ceivable extremes, and which, however palpable when stated, 
has never been generalized, as far as I know, by any philoso- 
pher, I call the Law or Principle of the Conditioned. 

This law in its application affords the phcenomenon of Caus- 
ality, — Thus, the whole phsenomenon of causality seems to me 
to be nothing more than the law of the Conditioned, in its 
application to a thing thought under the form or mental cate- 
gory of Existence, and under the form or mental category of 
Time. We cannot know, we cannot thmk a thing, except as 
existing, that is, under the category of existence ; and we cannot 
know or tliink of a thing as existing, except in time. Now the 
application of the law of the conditioned to any object, tliought 
as existent, and thought as in time, will give us at once the 



552 THE LAW OF THE COKDITIONED. 

j I aenomenon of causalitj. And thus: — An object is given us, 
either by sense or suggestion, — unagination. As known, we 
cannot but think it existent, and in time. But to say that we 
cannot but think it to exist, is to say, that we are unable to 
think it non-existent; that is, that we are unable to annihilate it 
in thought. And this we cannot do. We may turn aside from 
it ; we may occupy our attention with other objects ; and we 
may thus exclude it from our thoughts. This is certain : we 
need not think it ; but it is equally certain, that thinking it, we 
cannot think it not to exist. This will be at once admitted of 
the present; but it may possibly be denied of the past and 
future. But if we make the experiment, we shall find the 
mental annihilation of an object equally impossible under time 
past, present, or future. 

Annihilation and Creation^ — as conceived by us, — To obvi- 
ate misapprehension, however, I must make a very simple 
observation. When I say that it is impossible to annihilate an 
object in thought — in other words, to conceive it as non-exist- 
ent, — it is of course not meant that it is impossible to imagine 
the object wholly changed in form. We can j&gure to ourselves 
the elements of which it is composed, distributed and arranged 
and modified in ten thousand forms, — we can imagine any thing 
of it, short of annihilation. But the complement, the cmantum, 
of existence, which is reaUzed in any object, — that we can [not] 
represent to ourselves, either as increased, without abstraction 
from other bodies, or as diminished, without addition to them. In 
short, we are unable to construe it in thought, that there can be 
an atom absolutely added to, or an atom absolutely taken away 
from, existence in general. Make the experiment. Form tc 
yourselves a notion of the universe ; now can you conceive that 
the quantity of existence, of which the universe is the sum, is 
either amplified or diminished ? You can conceive the creation 
of a world as lightly as you conceive the creation of an atom. 
But what is a creation ? It is not the springing of nothing into 
something. Far from it : — it is conceived, and is by us con- 
ceivable, merely as the evolution of a new form of existence, by 
the fiat of the Deity. Let us suppose the very crisis of creation. 



THE LAW OF rilli: COlSDITIONED. 558 

Call we realke it to ourselves, in thought, that, the moment 
after the universe came into manifested being, there was a 
larger complement of existence in the universe and its Author 
together, than there was the moment before, in the Deity him- 
self alone ? This we cannot imagine. Wliat P have now said 
of our conceptions of creation, holds true of our conceptions of 
annihilation. We can conceive no real annihilation, — no abso- 
lute sinking of something into notliing. But, as creation is 
cogitable by us only as an exertion of divine power, so annihila- 
tion is only to be conceived by us as a withdrawal of the divine 
support. All that there is now actually of existence in the 
universe, we conceive as having virtually existed, prior to crea- 
tion, in the Creator ; and in imagining the universe to be anni- 
hilated by its Author, we can only imagine this, as the retracta- 
tion of. an outward energy into power. All this shows how 
impossible it is for the human mind to think aught that it thinks, 
as non-existent either in time past or in time future. 

[Our mability to think what we have once conceived existent 
in Time, as ill time becoming non-existent, corresponds with our 
inability to think, what we have conceived existent in Space, 
as in space becoming non-existent. We cannot realize it to 
thought, that a thing should be extruded, either from the one 
quantity or the other. Hence, und^r extension, the law of 
Ultimate Incompressibility • under pretension, the law of Cause 
and Effect.] — Discussions, 

Infinite regress, or non-commencement, equally inconceiva* 
hie, — We have been hitherto speaking only of one inconceiva- 
ble extreme of the conditioned, in its application to the category 
of existence in the category of time, — the extreme of absolute 
commencement ; the other is equally incomprehensible, that is, 
the extreme of infinite regress or non-commencement. With 
this latter we have, however, at present nothing to do. [Indeed, 
as not obtrusive, the Infinite figures far less in the theatre of 
mind, and exerts a far inferior influence in the modification of 
thought, than the Absolute. It is, in fact, both distant and 
delitescent ; and in place of meeting us at every turn, it requires 
some exertion on our part to seek it out.] It is the former 

47 



554 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIOiSIED 

alone, — it is the iiiabilltv we experience of annihilating in 
thought an existence in time past, in other words, onr utter 
impotence of conceiving its absolute commencement, that consti- 
tutes and explains the whole phasnomenon of causality. An 
object is presented to our observation which has phsenomenally 
begun to be. Well, we cannot realize it in thought that the 
object, that is, this determinate complement of existence, had 
really no being at any past moment ; because this supposes that, 
once thinking it as existent, we could again think it as non- 
existent, which is for us impossible. "What, then, can we do? 
That the phaenomenon presented to us began, as a phsenomenon, 
to be, — this we know by experience ; but that the elements of 
its 'existence only began, when the phgenomenon they constitute 
came into being, — this we are wholly unable to represent in 
thought. In these circumstances, how do we proceed ? — How 
must we proceed ? There is only one possible mode. We are 
compelled to believe that the object (that is, a certain quale and 
quantum of being) whose phaenomenal rise into existence we 
have witnessed, did really exist, prior to this rise^ under other 
forms ; [and by form^ be it observed, I mean any mode of 
existence, conceivable by us or not]. But to say that a thing 
previously existed under different forms, is only in other words 
to say, that a thing had cafases. I have already noticed to you 
the error of philosophers in supposing, that any thing can have 
a single cause. Of course, I speak only of Second Causes. Of 
the causation of the Deity we can form no possible conception. 
Of Second Causes, I say, there must almost always be at least a 
concurrence of two to constitute an effect. Take the example 
of vapor. Here, to say that heat is the cause of evaporation, 
is a very inaccurate, — at least a very inadequate, expression. 
Water is as much the cause of evaporation as heat. But heat- 
and water together are the causes of the phsenomenon. Nay, 
there is a third concause which we have forgot, — the atmos- 
phere. Now, a cloud is the result of these three concurrent 
causes or constituents ; and, knowing this, we find no difficulty 
in carrying back the complement of existence, which it contains 
prior to its appearance. But on the hypothesis, that we are not 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 555 

aware what are the real constituents or 'causes of the cloud, the 
human mind must still perforce suppose some unknown, some 
hypothetical, antecedents, into which it mentally refunds all the 
existence which the cloud is thought to contain."* 

Uniform succession not a necessary prerequisite for the causal 

* [My doctrine of Causality is accused of neglecting the phaenomenon of 
change, and of ignoring the attribute of power. This objection precisely 
reverses the fact. Causation is by me proclaimed to be identical with 
change, — change of power into act ("omnia mutantur"); change, how- 
ever, only of appearance, — we being unable to realize in thought either 
existence (substance) apart from phenomena, or existence absolutely com- 
mencing, or absolutely terminating. And specially as to power ; power is 
the property of an existent something (for it is thought only as the essential 
attribute of what is so or so to exist) ; power is, consequently, the correla- 
tive of existence, and a necessary supposition, in this theory, of causation. 
Here the cause, or rather the complement of "causes, is nothing but powers 
capable of producing the effect ; and the effect is only that now existing 
actually, which previously existed potentially, or in the causes. We must, 
in truth, define — a cause, the power of effectuating a change; and an 
etiect, a change actually caused. 

Mutation, Causation, Effectuation, are only the same thought in difi*er- 
ent respects ; they may, therefore, be regarded as virtually terms converti- 
ble. Eveiy change is an effect ; every effect is a change. An effect is, in 
truth, just a change of power into act ; every effect being an actualization of 
the potential. 

But what is now considered as the cause may at another time be viewed 
as the effect ; and vice versa. Thus, we can extract the acid or the alkali^ 
as effect, out of the salt, as principal concause ; and the square which, as 
effect, is made up of two triangles in conjunction, may be viewed as cause 
when cut into these figures. In opposite views. Addition and Multiplica- 
tion, Subtraction and Division, may be regarded as causes, or as effects. 

Power is an attribute or property of existence, but not coextensive with it; ' 
for we may suppose (negatively think) things to exist which have no capac- 
ity of change, no capacity of appearing. 

Creation is the existing subsequently in act of what previously existed in 
power; annihilation, on the contrary, is the subsequent QxistencQ in power 
of what previously existed in act. 

Except the first and last causal agencies (and these, as Divine opel-ations, 
are by us incomprehensible), every other is conceived also as an effect; 
therefore, every event is, in different relations, a pov/er and an act. Con- 
sidered as a cause, it is a power, — a power to cooperate an effect. Consid- 
ered as an effect, it is an act, — an act cooperated by causes. 1 — Appendix. 



556 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 

judgment — Nothing can be a greater error in itself, or a more 
fertile cause of delusion, than the common doctrine, that the 
causal judgment is elicited only when we apprehend objects in 
consecution, and uniform consecution. Of course, the observa- 
tion of such succession prompts and enables us to assign partic- 
ular causes to particular effects. But this consideration ought 
to be carefully distinguished from the law of Causality, abso- 
lutely, which consists not in the empirical attribution of this 
phaenomenon, as cause, to that phsenomenon as effect, but in the 
universal necessity, of which we are conscious, to think causes 
for every event, whether that event stand isolated by itself, and 
be by us referable to no other, or whether it be one in a series 
of successive phaenomena, which, as it were, spontaneously ar- 
range themselves under the relation of effect and cause. [Of 
no phaenomenon, as observed, need we think the cause ; but of 
every phaenomenon^ must we think a cause. The former we 
may learn through a process of induction and generalization ; 
the latter we must always and at once admit, constrained by the 
condition of E-elativity. 3n this, not sunken rock, Dr. Brown 
and others have been shipwrecked.] — Discussions, 

Reasons for preferring this, doctrine, — In the first place, to 
explain the phaenomenon of the Causal Judgment, it postulates 
no new^ no extraordinary^ no express principle. It does not 
even found upon a positive power ; for, while it shows that the 
phaenomenon in question is only one of a class, it assigns, as 
their common cause, only a negative impotence. In this, it 
stands advantageously contrasted with the one other theory 
which saves the phaenomenon, but which saves it only by the 
hypothesis of a special principle, expressly devised to account 
for this phaenomenon alone. Nature never works by more, and 
more complex, instruments than are necessary; — iiridh 7t8Qit- 
Twg ; and to assume a particular force, to perform what can be 
better explained by a general imbecility, is contrary to every 
rule of philosophizing. 

It averts scepticism. — But, in the second place, if there be 
postulated an express and positive affirmation of intelligence to 
account for the fact, that existence cannot absolutely commence, 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED, 557 

we must equally postulate a counter affirmation of intelligence, 
positive and express, to explain the counter fact, that existence 
cannot infinitely not-commence. The one necessity of mind is 
equally strong as the other ; and if the one be a positive ioc- 
trine, an express testimony of intolligence, so also must be the 
other. But they are contradictories ; and, as contradictories, 
they cannot both be true. On this theory, therefore, the root of 
our nature is a lie ! By the doctrine, on the contrary, which I 
propose, these contradictory phaenomena are carried up into the 
common principle of a limitation of our faculties. Intelligence 
is shown to be feeble, but not false ; our nature is, thus, not a 
lie, nor the Author of our nature a deceiver. 

It avoids fatalism or inconsisteiicy, — In the third place, this 
simpler and easier doctrine avoids a serious inconvenience, 
which attaches to the more difficult and" complex. It is this : — 
To suppose a positive and special principle of causality, is to 
suppose, that there is expressly revealed to us, through intelli- 
gence, the fact that there is no free causation, — that is, that there 
is no cause which is not itself merely an effect ; existence being 
only a series of determined antecedents and determined conse- 
quents. But this is an assertion of Fatalism. Such, however, 
most of the patrons of that doctrine will not admit. The as- 
sertion of absolute necessity, they are aware, is virtually the 
negation of a moral universe, consequently of the Moral Gov- 
ernor of a moral universe ; in a word. Atheism. Fatalism and 
Atheism are, indeed, convertible terms. The only valid argu- 
ments for the existence of a God, and for the immortality of 
the soul, rest on the ground of man's moral nature ; conse- 
quently, if that moral nature be annihilated, which in any 
scheme of necessity it is, every conclusion established on such 
a nature, is anniliilated also. Aware of this, some of those who 
make the judgment of causality a special principle, — a positive 
dictate of intelligence, — find themselves compelled, in order to 
escape from the consequences of their doctrine, to deny that 
this dictate, though universal in its deliverance, should be al- 
lowed to hold universally true; and, accordingly, they would 
exempt from it the facts of volition. Will, they hold to be a 

47* 



558 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 

free cause, that is, a cause which is not an effect; in other 
words, they attribute to will the power of absolute origination.* 
But here their own principle of causality is too strong for them. 
They say, that it is unconditionally given, as a special and 
positive law of intelligence;, that every origination is only an 
apparent, not a real, commencement. Now to exempt certain 
phaenomena from this law, for the sake of our moral conscious- 
ness, cannot be validly done. For, in the first place, this would 
be to admit that the mind is a complement of contradictory rev- 
elations. If mendacity be admitted of some of our mental dic- 
tates, we cannot vindicate veracity to any. " Falsus in uno, 
falsus in omnibus." Absolute scepticism is hence the legiti- 
mate conclusion. But, in the second place, waiving this con- 
clusion, what right have we, on this doctrine, to subordinate the 
positive afiirmation of causality to our consciousness of moral 
liberty, — what right have we, for the interest of the latter, to 
derogate from the universality of the former ? We have none. 
If both are equally positive, v/e have no right to sacrifice to the 
other the alternative, which our wishes prompt us to abandon. 

But the doctrine which I propose is not exposed to these dif- 
ficulties. It does not suppose that the judgment of Causality 
is founded on a power of the mind to recognize as necessary in 
thought what is necessary in the universe of existence ; it, on 
the contrary, founds this judgment merely on the impotence of 
the mind to conceive either of two contradictories, and, as one 
or the other of two contradictories must be true, though both 
cannot, it shows that there is no ground for inferring from the 
inability of the mind to conceive an alternative as possible, that 
such alternative is really impossible. At the same time, if the 
causal judgment be not an afiirmation of mind, but merely an 
Incapacity of positively thinking the contrary, it follows that 
such a negative judgment cannot stand in opposition to the posi- 
tive consciousness, — the affirmative deliverance, that we are 
truly the authors, — the responsible originators, of our actions, 

^ [To conceive a free act, is to conceive an act, which, being a causp, is 
not itself a?i effect; in other words, to conceive an absolute conim en cement 
But is such by us conceivable ?] — Notes to Reid 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 559 

and not merely links in the adamantine series of effects and 
causes. It appears to me tliat it is only on this doctrine that 
we can philosophically vindicate the liberty of the will, — that 
we can rationally assert to a man "fatis avolsa voluntas." 
How the will can possibly be free must remain to us, under the 
present limitation of our faculties, wholly incomprehensible. 
We cannot conceive absolute commencement ; we cannot, there- 
fore, conceive a free volition. But as little can we conceive the 
alternative on which hberty is denied, on which necessity is af- 
firmed. And in favor of our moral nature, tTie fact that we are 
free, is given us in the consciousness of an uncompromising law 
of Duty, in the consciousness of our moral accountability ; and 
this fact of liberty cannot be redargued on the ground, that it is 
incomprehensible ; for the doctrine of the Conditioned proves, 
against the necessitarian, that something may, nay must, be true, 
of which the mind is wholly unable to construe to itself the 
possibihty ; whilst it shows that the objection of incomprehen- 
sibility applies no less to the doctrine of fatalism than to the 
doctrine of moral freedom. If the deduction, therefore, of the 
Causal Judgment, which I have attempted, should speculatively 
prove correct, it will, I think, afford a securer and more satis- 
factory foundation for our practical interests, than any other 
which has ever yet been promulgated. 

[The question of Liberty and Necessity may be dealt with in 
two ways. 

I. The opposing parties may endeavor to show each that his 
thesis is distinct, intelligible, and consistent, whereas that the 
anti-thesis of his opponent is indistinct, unintelligible, and con- 
tradictory. 

II. An opposing party may endeavor to show that the thesis 
of either side is unthinkable, and thus abolish logically the 
whole problem, as, on both alternatives, beyond the limits of 
human thought ; it being, however, open to him to argue that, 
though unthinkable, his thesis is not annihilated, there being 
contradictory opposites, one of which must consequently be held 
as true, though we be unable to think the possibility of either 
opposite ; whilst he mav be able to appeal to a direct or indi 



560 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 

reel uecIai'aLion of our conscious nature in favor of the alterna* 
tive wliicli he maintains.] — Appendix, 

Eeid sajs that, according to one meaning of the word Liberty, 
" it is opposed to confinement of the body bj superior force ; so 
we say a prisoner is set at Hberty, when his fetters are knocked 
off and he is discharged from confinement ;" and he grants that 
" this hbertj extends not to the wilL" [This is called the lib- 
erty from Coaction or Violence — the liberty of Spontaneity — 
Spontaneity. In the present question, this species of liberty 
ought to be thrown altogether out of account ; it is admitted by 
all parties ; it is common equally to brutes and men ; is not a 
peculiar quality of the will ; and is, in fact, essential to it, for 
the will cannot possibly be forced. The greatest spontaneity is, 
in fact, the greatest necessity. Thus, a hungry horse, who turns 
of necessity to food, is said, on this definition of liberty, to do so 
with freedom, because he does so spontaneously ; and, in gene- 
ral, the desire of happiness, which is the most necessary ten- 
dency, will, on this application of the term, be the most free. 

Again, " liberty is opposed to obligation by law, or lawful 
authority." With this description of hberty, also, the present 
question has no concern. 

Moral liberty does not merely consist in the power of doing 
what we will, but in the power of willing what we will. This 
is variously denominated the Liberty from N^ecessity — Moral 
Liberty — Philosophical Liberty — LJssential Liberty — Liberty 
from Lndifference, etc. A Power over the determinations of 
our Will supposes an act of Will that our Will should deter- 
mine so and so ; for we can only freely exert power through a 
rational determination or Volition. This definition of Liber^ 
is right. But then question upon question remains — and this 
ad infinitum. Have we a power (a will) over such anterior 
will ? And until this question be definitively answered, which it 
never can", we mu^t be unable to conceive the possibility of the 
fact of Liberty, But though inconceivable, this fact is not 
therefore false. For there are many contradictories (and of 
contradictories, one must and one only can, be true), of which 
we are equally unable to conceive the possibility of either. 



THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 5G1 

The philosophy, therefore, which I profess, annihilates the theo- 
retical problem — How is the scheme of Liberty, or the scheme 
of Necessity, to be rendered comprehensible? — by showing 
that* both schemes are equally inconceivable ; but it establishes 
Liberty practically as a fact, by showing that it is either itself 
an immediate datum^ or is involved in an immediate datum^ of 
consciousness. Held has done nothing to render the scheme of 
Liberty conceivable. But if our intellectual nature be not a lie, 
if our consciousness and conscience do not deceive us in the 
immediate datum of an Absolute Law of Duty^ we are free, as 
we are moral j agents ; for Morality involves Liberty as its es- 
sential condition, its ratio essendi. 

Is the person an original undetermined cause of the determi- 
nation of his will ? If he be not, then he is not a free agent, 
and the scheme of Necessity is admitted. If he be, in the first 
place, it is impossible to conceive the possibility of this ; and, in 
the second, if the fact, though inconceivable, be allowed, it is 
impossible to see how a cause undetermined by any motive * can 
be a rational^ jnoral, and accountable cause. There is no con- 
ceivable medium between Fatalism and Casuism ; and the con- 
tradictory schemes of Liberty and Necessity themselves are 
inconceivable. For, as we cannot compass in thought an unde- 
termined cause — an absolute commencement — the fundamental 
hypothesis of the one ; so we can as little think an infinite 
series of determined causes — of relative commencements — the 
fundamental hypothesis of the other. The champions of the 

^ [A motive, abstractly considered, is called an end (>x final cause. It is 
well denominated in the Greek philosophy, to eveaa ov — that for the sake of 
which. A motive, however, in its concrete reality, is nothing apart from the 
mind, — only a mental tendency. 

If motives ^^ influence to action," as Reid says, they must cooperate in 
producing a certain effect upon the agent ; and the determination to act, 
and to act in a certain manner, is that effect. They are thus, on Reid's ov/n 
view, in. this relation, causes, and efficient causes. It is of no consequence 
in the argument whether motives be said to determine a man to act, or to in- 
fluence (that is, to determine) him to determine himself to act. It does 
not, therefore, seem consistent to say that motives are not causes, and tliat 
they do not Gct.\ — Not^s to Reid. 



562 THE LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 

opposite doctrines are thus at once resistless in assault, and im- 
potent in defence. Each is hewn down and appears to die 
under the home-thrusts of his adversary ; but each again recov- 
ers life from the very death of his antagonist, and, to borrow a 
simile, both are hke the heroes in Valhalla, re^dy in a moment 
to amuse themselves anew in the same bloodless and intermina- 
ble conflict. The doctrine of Moral Liberty cannot be made 
conceivable, for we can only conceive the determined and the 
relative. As already stated, all that can be done is to show, 1° 
That, for the -fact of Liberty, we have, immediately or medi- 
ately, the evidence of consciousness ; and, 2°, That there are, 
among the phoenomena of mind, many facts which we must ad- 
mit as actual, but of whose possibility we are wholly unable to 
form any notion. I may merely observe that the fact of Motion 
can be shown to .be impossible, on grounds not less strong than 
those on which it is attempted to disprove the fact of Liberty ; 
to say nothing of many contradictories, neither of which can be 
thought^ but one of which must, on the laws of Contradiction 
and Excluded Middle, necessarily he. 

It is proper to notice, that, as to live is to act^ and as man is 
not free to live or not to live, so neither, absolutely speaking, is 
he free to act or not to act. As he lives, he is necessarily de- 
termined to act or energize — to think and will; and all the 
liberty to which he can pretend, is to choose between this mode 
of action and .that. In Scholastic language, man cannot have 
the liberty of freedom^ though he may have the liberty of sped- 
Jication, The root of his freedom is thus necessity. Nay, we 
cannot conceive otherwise even of the Deity. As we must 
think Him as necessarily existent, and necessarily living, so we 
must think him as necessarily active. Such are the conditions 
of human thought. When Dr. Clarke says, ''The true defini- 
tion of Liberty is the Power to Act^^ he should have recollected 
that this power is, on his own hypothesis, absolutely fatal if it 
cannot but act,"] — Notes to Reid, 

[Substance and Quality are, manifestly, only thought as mu- 
tual relatives. Yf e cannot think a Quality existing absolutely, 
in or of itself. We are constrained to think it as inhering in 



TII£ LAW OF THE CONDITIONED. 563 

some basisj substratum, hypostasis, or Substance ; but this Sub- 
stance cannot be conceived by us except negatively, that is, as 
the unapparent — the inconceivable, correlative of certain ap- 
pearing Qualities. If we attempt to think it positively, we can 
think it only by transforming it into a Quality or bundle of Qual- 
ities, which, again, we are compelled to refer to an unknown 
substance, now supposed for their incogi table basis. Every 
thing, in fact, may be conceived as the Quality, or as the Sub- 
stance of something else. But Absolute Substance and Absolute 
Quality, these are both inconceivable, as more than negations of 
the conceivable. It is hardly requisite to observe, that the 
term Substance is vulgarly applied, in the abusive signification, 
to a congeries of qualities, denoting those especially which are 
more permanent, in contrast to those which are more transitory. 
What has now been said, applies equally to Mind and Matter. 

Space applies, proximately, to things considered as Substance ; 
for the qualities of substances, though they are in, may not oc- 
cupy, space. In fact, it is by a merely modern abuse of the 
term, that the affections of Extension have been styled Quali- 
ties. It is extremely difficult for the human mind to admit the 
possibility of unextended Substance. Extension, being a con- 
dition of positive thinking, clings to all our conceptions ; and it 
is one merit of the philosophy of the Conditioned, that it proves 
space to be only a law of Thought, and not a law of Things.] — 
Discussions. 



THE END 



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